


Catch Those Pieces As They Scatter

by zivaballerina



Series: Puzzle Pieces [2]
Category: Gilmore Girls
Genre: F/M, Puzzle Pieces 'Verse, Revival AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:04:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8688835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zivaballerina/pseuds/zivaballerina
Summary: A Revival AU, in the same 'verse as my last work, "Puzzle Pieces." A rewrite of A Year in the Life, where Rory and Logan are happily married, with a small daughter, and they face life together.--"Do you want some coffee?""No, thank you.""I don't think I've ever seen you turn down coffee, Ace." She shrugs. "I just want to sit here.""Do you want to be alone?""No. I always want you."





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Continuing off of my last story, “Puzzle Pieces”, this is how the revival was in my head, before it aired—Rory and Logan, happily married with a small child, facing things together—because I am unashamed in my deep love of Logan Huntzberger. My plan is to rewrite the whole revival in this ‘verse. I named Rory and Logan’s daughter after one of my best friends, who feels honored because, like me, she loves Logan. Title is from Johnnyswim's "Let It Matter".

\--

 

The phone rings at two am, which is never a good sign, and it's her mother, so Rory rolls over and answers it.

 

"Mom?" Logan hears her ask. "Mom, are you okay? What happened?"

 

Logan sits up next to her, watching her carefully.

 

"Oh my god," Rory says. "Is he…"

 

The color drains from her face and she reaches for Logan, her breathing suddenly quick and uneven. He rubs her back, waiting.

 

"Yeah, I… oh my god," she repeats into the phone, and Logan can hear Lorelai crying on the other line. "Yeah, of course we'll-- yes, go, be with her." Tears are creeping into Rory's voice now, and she leans over, folding herself in half. "Yeah," she whispers. "He's here." She pauses. "I love you, Mom. Bye."

 

She drops the phone into her lap, covering her hands with her face.

 

"My grandpa," she says finally. "He's… he's gone."

 

"Oh, Rory," Logan says, and then the dam breaks and she's slumped over, sobbing, Logan rubbing her back and her arms and pressing his face into her.

 

"I… we have to go home," she chokes out, and he nods.

 

"I'll take care of it, all of it, in the morning." As for right now, he’s not leaving her side.

\--

 

"Daddy, where are my school clothes?" is the first thing Rory hears when she wakes up, again, sunlight peeking around the curtains.

 

Logan immediately shushes Alexandra. "We’re not going to school today," he says quietly. "Mommy doesn't feel good, so we have to be quiet." There is silence for a moment, and then he says, "maybe it would make Mommy feel better if you went and got in bed with her-- but you have to be really, really gentle."

 

The bedroom door opens slowly, and Alexandra tentatively pauses at Rory's side of the bed.

 

"Good morning, baby," Rory whispers, her voice hoarse and shaky. She extends her arm out. "Come lay with Mommy."

 

The four-year-old is a warm weight against Rory's side, her breath hot on Rory's skin. Rory busies herself with rubbing her daughter's back and pressing kisses into her hair until they both fall back asleep.

 

\--

 

Logan doesn’t mean to wake them up; he's trying to pull out suitcases and clothes as quietly as humanly possible. But motherhood has made Rory a light sleeper, and it's way later than Alexandra is used to sleeping, so they both look up at him with hazy blue eyes.

 

"Sorry," he apologizes. "I was trying to pack as much as I could, but I don't know what all you want to bring, Ace."

 

"Bring?" she asks, still a little asleep-- and then she remembers where they'll have to go. "When do we leave?"

 

"We’ll have to leave for the airport in about three hours. I'm sorry, it was the earliest I could get all three of us on."

 

She nods, and Alexandra starts bouncing excitedly at the mention of the airport.

 

"Where are we going, Daddy? Are we going to see Mimi and Poppa?"

 

"Yeah, baby, we are."

 

"And Great-Grandma and Great-Grandpa?"

 

Logan and Rory look at each other, realizing that they stand in uncharted territory where they'll have to explain death to this tiny child who, as infrequently as she saw him, associated her great-grandfather with warm smells and strong hugs and a cozy lap to sit in.

 

"Um." Rory opens her mouth and immediately her eyes flood with tears, so Logan sits on the bed and pulls Alexandra onto his lap, resting a comforting hand on Rory's leg beneath the blanket.

 

"We have to go to Stars Hollow because something very, very sad happened."

 

Alexandra's face begins to mirror the seriousness of her father's, looking up at him and listening intently.

 

"Great-Grandpa went to Heaven last night," he says, slowly and calculated. This seems like the best way to explain it to a four-year-old.

 

"With the angels?" she asks, eyes round.

 

Rory lets out a quiet sob that she can't suppress, and Logan tightens his grip on her ankle.

 

"Yes, and Mommy's sad because that means we can't see him anymore."

 

"Never again?" she asks, and Rory is really crying now, face buried in her pillow.

 

Logan looks from his wife to his daughter, torn between which one to comfort first.

 

"No," Logan whispers, close to Alexandra's ear. "And we are all going to miss him so very much."

 

It is at this statement that Alexandra notices Rory, and becomes alarmed.

 

"Daddy, Mommy is crying. Is it because she's sad about Great-Grandpa?"

 

"Yes, she is."

 

Alexandra crawls off of Logan's lap, moving closer to Rory.

 

"Mama," she says quietly, patting her arm. "If Great-Grandpa is in Heaven, it means he can look down and see us all the time, and help us." She sticks her chin out matter-of-factly. "That's what Mrs. Bing said happens when someone you love goes to Heaven."

 

Logan can't help but tear up at her childlike innocence, and Rory sits up to gather the child in her arms, crying into her soft blonde hair. Logan moves behind Rory, resting his face in her shoulder.

 

They stay there for a few minutes, but it's Rory who speaks up first.

 

"I need to pack."

 

Logan nods, letting her go. "I'll make breakfast. And coffee."

 

Breakfast makes her throw up, and she blames it on the grief. She doesn't have to pack much-- for all of Logan thinking that he wouldn't know what to pack for his two girls to wear for the week ahead, he was actually really good at it. So she puts on leggings and a sweater and piles her hair on top of her head, not even bothering with make-up-- she couldn't bring herself to care about "chic airport style" or whatever-- and spends the drive to the airport in silence, her hand firmly in Logan's.

 

\--

 

Alexandra has always been a calm, serious child-- taking after her mother-- but both Rory and Logan are surprised at her stillness on the flight to Connecticut. Logan distracts her with movies on the iPad, which she watches with rapt attention, and eventually she opts to just sit on Rory's lap, head on her chest.

 

"Do you want me to hold her for a little while?" Logan asks, looking at the sleeping preschooler. "She's pretty heavy now."

 

Rory shakes her head. "No. I think that I need this."

 

\--

 

Luke and Lorelai are waiting when they get off of the plane, and Alexandra runs full-speed at them, her pink backpack bouncing on her back.

 

"Mimi! Poppa!"

 

Lorelai leans down to hug the little girl tightly, and then Luke sweeps her up onto his hip, smiling brightly at her. Rory and her mother hug, long and silent, and Luke looks at them-- Logan knows that no matter how much time passes, no matter how much Luke likes Logan, no matter how good of a husband and a father that Luke knows Logan is, he always sees him as the man who takes care of Rory and Alexandra until Luke can again.

 

\--

 

They sleep in Rory's childhood room, now cramped because her old twin bed has been replaced with a double bed since their marriage, and the trundle bed is still there to be pulled out for Alexandra. The result is that almost the entire room is made up of bed, and there is nowhere for Rory to escape to grieve: her mother is upstairs, and she has to be strong for her mother, and her daughter is downstairs, and she has to be strong for her daughter.

 

And so Logan finds her, in the middle of the night, sitting on the porch, just staring straight ahead.

 

"I was wondering where you were," he says, stepping out to join her. "Do you want some coffee?"

 

"No, thank you."

 

"I don't think I've ever seen you turn down coffee, Ace."

 

She shrugs. "I just want to sit here."

 

"Do you want to be alone?"

 

"No. I always want you."

 

He sits next to her, and when a cool breeze blows and she shivers, he wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in. In a few minutes, she's crying, letting herself sob into his chest, and he rocks back and forth, stroking her hair.

 

"It hurts so much," she cries. "I miss him so much."

 

"I know, babe. I’m right here. I’ve got you."

 

\--

 

Emily Gilmore looks small and hollow, but she is still barking commands at everyone with a hoarse voice. There are so many arrangements to make, so many people to call, so many people to call back. Lorelai and Rory jump right in to the funeral planning. Lorelai looks consistently on the verge of tears, and periodically disappears somewhere with Luke, who stays out of the way except to offer food or run an errand. Rory, on the other hand, stays steely eyed and stoic by her grandmother's side, taking notes and making phone calls and fetching things. Logan keeps Alexandra out of the way-- at first, he wanted to leave her with Lane and Zach and the boys, but Rory knew that Emily would want to see her great-granddaughter. And so the little girl had run to Emily Gilmore, and been fawned over, her hair patted and her dress fussed with.

 

"Where's Great-Grandpa?" Alexandra asked, and Logan swooped in as Emily involuntarily jumped back.

 

"We talked about this, remember?" he said, a little more tersely than she was used to.

 

The little girl looked up, eyes wide. "Oh. Right." She patted her great-grandmother's hand reassuringly. "It's okay, Great-Grandma. He's with the angels, and he can look down and see us."

 

"She heard that from her teacher at some point," Logan said quickly, but Emily ignored him.

 

"Of course he can, dear. He'll always be watching out for you."

 

Then the little girl had been taken away to an upstairs room to watch movies and play with Lorelai's old dolls, and Logan does what he can in between checking on her.

 

The plan so far is that the next day, they will meet with the attorney and read Richard's will, and the next day will be the funeral. And so Logan calls the attorney and sets up the meeting, and he helps Rory gather some of Richard's favorite things to display at the funeral, and Alexandra eventually falls asleep.

 

\--

 

Logan and Rory are impressed with their daughter once again at the funeral and subsequent party. Mommy and Daddy and Mimi and Poppa are so rarely somber and sad that she picks up on the seriousness of the situation and lets Mommy help her put on a black dress and brush her hair. She wants to hold Mommy's hand, but Mommy holds Mimi's hand because they are both sad, and so she holds Daddy's hand, and then Poppa carries her when they get there. She wants Mimi and Poppa to swing her like they usually do when they all walk around Stars Hollow, but Poppa just shakes his head when she asks.

 

Logan will admit that he doesn’t really know what to do, and he doesn't think that Luke does, either. Emily and Lorelai and Rory need each other, and so as much as he wants to comfort his wife, he lets her cling to her mother. Alexandra doesn't need comforting, because she doesn't really understand, but she needs distracting. And so he stands in the back with her in his arms, in case she starts chattering or getting restless and he needs to take her away so she doesn't mess with the solemnity of the service. And Logan cries, a little bit, because he loved Richard too, and Alexandra wipes his tears away with her little hand, and lays her little cheek against his, and he wants to cry all the more.

 

The Huntzbergers are at the gathering at Emily's-- of course, they _should_ be, but Rory had been too preoccupied to think about that until Logan is pointing them out to Alexandra.

 

"Grandma! Grandpa!"

 

Alexandra is much more reserved around them than she is around Luke and Lorelai, but Rory was always grateful that her own mother didn't let her negative opinions of her parents keep Rory from loving them, and she wants that for her daughter. So she accepts their condolences and smiles as Shira and Mitchum fawn over their growing granddaughter.

 

"Can I get you a scotch?" Mitchum asks, only kindness in his voice, and Rory shakes her head.

 

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

 

The party creeps into Alexandra's naptime, and she wrenches her hand out of Logan's because she wants her Mommy. Luckily, once she's in Rory's arms, she's placated enough to lay against her shoulder quietly while Rory greets guests, until she falls asleep and Logan takes her upstairs because she's getting heavy and Rory looks so tired.

 

"When is the last time you ate?" he whispers into Rory's ear when she has a break from well-wishers, and she shakes her head, turning a little green.

 

"I throw up every time I eat," she whispers back. "Not now."

 

"Rory," he protests. "You look like you're going to fall over."

 

But she only shakes her head again as another guest approaches her, and so after he shakes the man's hand, he goes to find Luke, hoping she'll eat something if it comes from her step-father.

 

\--

 

"We'll have to go soon," Rory says.

 

"I'll reschedule the flight," Logan offers.

 

She shakes her head. "No. You need to go to work. Alexandra needs to go to school. I need…" She shakes her head again. "I don't know. Sleep. Home. Something."

 

"Okay, we'll go."

 

Her hand is resting on her stomach, and he looks at her.

 

"Did you eat something?"

 

"I know you sent Luke. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, of course. I'm surprised he didn't go take over the kitchen and make me something himself." She smiles a little.

 

"How do you feel?"

 

She shrugs. "I'm okay." But she leans back against the wall and shuts her eyes, and he can see dark purple circles underneath them.

 

"Are you sure you're up for an international flight?" he asks. "Why don't you go take a nap upstairs? I can find us a later flight, Ace."

 

"I want to go home, Logan. All of our stuff is packed, and Luke is going to take us to the airport."

 

\--

 

"Can you watch Alex for like five minutes?" Rory asks, and Luke looks confused, but nods.

 

"Yeah, of course."

 

Rory pulls Logan along until she finds an empty corner-- the airport isn't the place where she wanted to do this, but it seems slightly more appropriate than her grandfather's funeral party, and she doesn't think she can wait until they get home before this news bursts out of her, because it's already choking in her throat.

 

"Logan." She takes a deep breath, reaching out tentatively to touch his arm.

 

"Ace, what's going on?" He looks worried, more than the perpetual worry he's worn on his face for the past few days.

 

She forces a small smile, because this is _good_ , this is _happy_ , despite the place that they just came from. She takes his hand, pulling it to rest on her stomach, and he smiles slowly as he realizes.

 

"Logan, I'm pregnant," she says, and she can't help but grin.

 

"We're having another baby?" he asks, beaming, and she nods, moving in closer.

 

"I mean, I'll have to go to the doctor when we get home, but… I'm pretty sure."

 

He hugs her, peppering her face with soft kisses.

 

"This is amazing. This is wonderful."

 

"The timing is… weird," she says. "I feel like I'm going to explode with grief and with joy, all at the same time."

 

"It's fitting," he corrects. "One life ends, another begins."

 

Over her shoulder, Logan can just make out Luke walking Alexandra around one of the little stores, and he knows she's asking for a soda and Luke is trying to convince her to not follow the dietary paradigm of her mother and grandmother.

 

"Should we tell Luke? That he's going to be a Poppa again?" he asks. "Since we just kind of snuck away from him to have this moment?"

 

"How mad do you think my mother would be if he knew before her? Or if she had to hear it from him?"

 

"Good point."

 

Rory turns around, watching Luke hand the cashier a brightly colored bag of candy, a resigned look on his face, while Alexandra holds his hand and beams.

 

"He would be so happy," Rory whispers. "Let's tell him."

 

\--

 

Once Alexandra is in bed, Rory walks over to the couch and crumples into Logan’s lap, hiding her face in his neck, her eyes closing involuntarily of exhaustion.

 

"You're a super hero," she says. "My hero."

 

"Yeah?" he asks.

 

"The way you've been taking care of Alexandra so that I don't have to worry, and the way you've been taking care of me. And my mom and grandma when you can." She kisses the underside of his jaw. "Thank you."

 

\--


	2. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter: Rory flies between London and Stars Hollow, trying to balance being a wife and a mother and a daughter and a writer, and trying to do it all without the guilt eating her alive-- and all without excessive amounts of coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I literally spending way too much time watching the revival and copying down the dialogue? Well, I told you this was a rewrite.

\--

 

Logan was always an adventure, and she had always loved that. So she had moved across the country, to California with him, into the house with the avocado tree (because she had always wanted to work at a daily newspaper, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with _The San Francisco Chronicle_ , especially if it meant she and Logan would be together). Then, someone in London wanted her to write for them at the same time that the London office of Logan's company was after him, and so they had packed up themselves and a six-month-old and moved across the world, all in the name of adventure and a "why not, we're young."

 

Except that the job in London eventually ended, and while there were pieces here and there, she more often than not found herself trying to find time to write in the two hours that Alexandra napped during the day. And then she started flying to New York or California or wherever every once in a while, tracking down stories, but she felt so guilty for leaving behind a toddler that knew to cling to her legs in airports because airports meant Mama was going to be gone—no matter how many times Logan told her to go, she deserved to chase her dreams, he could handle Alexandra for two weeks—and eventually she stopped sending resumes to daily newspapers, because as big as London was, there were only so many, and she couldn't uproot her little family again, not when Logan had a great job and Alexandra went to a fancy preschool and had only ever known London as home.

 

Rory is officially a freelance writer, disguised as a stay-at-home mom. She hates herself for the contempt she felt for the title, and the job— what kind of mother is unhappy with getting to be present for every part of her child's life?— but this isn't what Rory Gilmore had planned, not even when she agreed to get married at twenty-four, not even when she had a baby at twenty-seven.

 

\--

 

Alexandra has a teacher’s holiday off from school, so Rory books two plane tickets for Connecticut, feeling like, after three months, she should check on her mother and grandmother face to face.

 

“Are you _sure_ you can’t come with us?” she asks Logan.

 

“I would love to Ace, but I can’t get out of work. Not this time.”

 

She frowns, sticking her lower lip out. “We’ll miss you.”

 

“I’ll miss you both, too.”

 

He ties his tie, and Rory straightens it, closing her eyes as he leans down to kiss her forehead.

 

“I want a picture, every day,” he tells her. “A picture of Alex, and a picture of that belly with the baby in it.”

 

Rory frames her just-barely-round stomach with her hands, looking in the mirror.

 

“I make no promises. You know what reception is like in Stars Hollow.”

 

“And I’m going to call you every night,” he continues.

 

“It’s only two days,” she laughs.

 

“I don’t like being apart from you two ever.” She looks guilty, and he shakes his head. “No, no. Go see them. Give them all my love, Lorelai and Luke and Emily and whoever else.”

 

“Like Taylor Doose?”

 

“You know me so well, Ace.”

 

\--

 

Rory and her mother have agreed to meet in the gazebo, and so she points it out to Alexandra, watching the little girl carefully to make sure that she doesn’t slip on any ice.

 

“Hi!” Rory greets Lorelai, although it’s lost in Alexandra’s shout of “Mimi!”

 

“Hi, lovebug!” Lorelai hugs the girl, then looks at Rory, up and down. “ _That’s_ how you look when you get off a plane? After flying with a _toddler_?”

 

“ _That’s_ how you say hello?” Rory quips back. “And besides, she’s not a toddler, she’s a _preschooler_. Yikes.”

 

“ _And_ you’re pregnant,” Lorelai continues. “You’ve been stuffed in a glorified tin can for the last seven hours, surrounded by people with consumption, diphtheria, scabies, hummus dip, rabid dogs, drugged up children attacking your chair and stealing your change.” She looks at Alexandra. “Not your kid, of course.”

 

“What airline are you flying?”

 

“You should look drawn and blotchy, with swollen ankles. You should be singing ‘I Dreamed a Dream’ with a bad haircut while selling yourself to a bunch of French dockworker.”

 

“I don’t think Logan would like that very much.”

 

“But instead, you look perfect. Admit it. You’ve been Gooped.”

 

“I have not been Gooped!” Rory protests.

 

“You live in London with your rich husband and your _perfect_ kid and you’re doing yoga in the aisles in cashmere sweatpants while your comfort dog watches _Zoolander 2_ on his watch.”

 

“My _kid_ watched movies on the _iPad_ , and I do blood clot prevention foot pumps while wearing my Yonah Shimmel Knishery baseball cap while toothpaste dries up a zit on my chin.” She takes a breath. “Wow! Winded.”

 

“Haven’t done that in a while,” Lorelai smiles.

 

“Felt good.”

 

“I’ve missed you, kid.” Lorelai hugs Rory, then tickles Alexandra’s sides as the child doubles over with laughter. “And you, kid!”

 

“We’ve missed you, too,” Rory says.

 

“How long has it been?”

 

“Feels like years.”

 

Alexandra shakes her head. “Nuh-uh, because I was four when we came here, and I am still four.”

 

“You are so right, babe.” Lorelai hands over cups and a to-go bag. “Coffee and tacos. And a hot chocolate for the little one.”

 

“Al’s Pancake World!” Alexandra exclaims. While Poppa’s diner is her favorite, she loves Al’s pancake world because her name is also, kind of, Al.

 

“Princess Charlotte iced tea spoons,” Rory offers to Lorelai.

 

“She’s a princess even though she’s a baby,” Alexandra explains. “Great-Grandpa calls me princess sometimes, but she’s a for real princess.”

 

Rory frowns, but Lorelai jumps in.

 

“So, shall we get it out of the way?”

 

“Might as well.”

 

“One day? That’s all?”

 

“I’m sorry!”

 

Alexandra laughs at their silly voices.

 

“You miss Christmas and Thanksgiving and all I get is a one day visit? What am I, chopped liver?”

 

“We have to be back on the red-eye to London tomorrow night!”

 

“London again.”

 

“Yes.” Rory adjusts Alexandra’s hat so that it covers her ears better. “That is where we live, and I work, and Alex goes to school.”

 

“And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon…” Lorelai sings.

 

“Oh, now Emily.”

 

“Nicely played. All right, you win. So, we have limited time. Should we skip the town tour?”

 

“No!” Alexandra shouts.

 

“We can’t skip the town tour,” Rory agrees.

 

\--

 

“Luke’s going to be so excited to see you two,” Lorelai sing-songs as they hurry up the driveway.

 

“We can’t wait to see him,” Rory sings back.

 

“Paul Anka!” Alexandra yells as soon as they get in the door, making a beeline for the dog on the ottoman.

 

“Gentle, Alex,” Rory reminds her, but the dog is licking all over the little girl’s hands and face and she’s giggling uncontrollably.

 

“Okay, get ready,” Lorelai warns.

 

“For what?”

 

“Super proud Luke.”

 

“What?”

 

“Luke, it’s a Christmas miracle,” Lorelai calls as they walk into the kitchen.

 

“Ah, there she is, the _New Yorker_ writer!” he beams, holding his arms open.

 

“Super proud,” Lorelai whispers.

 

“Poppa!” comes a shout from the other room, and suddenly Alexandra is a blonde streak running right for Luke’s legs.

 

“It was just one Talk of the Town piece,” Rory says, pulling away from Luke so that he can pick Alexandra up.

 

“Just one Talk of the Town piece? Come on. It was terrific. And that woman you wrote about--”

 

“Naomi Shropshire,” Rory supplies.

 

“Yes, yes! I’ve never heard of her, but now I feel like I’ve met her.” He puts Alexandra down with a kiss to her cheek and moves to the stove.

 

“Well, I appreciate that,” Rory says, helping her daughter out of her coat before taking off her own.

 

“And,” Luke continues, stirring something, “I’ve never read _The New Yorker_ before, but now—every week.”

 

“I’m glad.”

 

“And I subscribed to it. Who says print is dead?”

 

“Only the world,” Lorelai says, and Rory has a string of unemployed months that agree with that statement.

 

“Well, what does the world—” Luke stops suddenly. “You’re eating.”

 

“Just tacos,” Lorelai says dismissively.

 

“Yeah, just tacos, Poppa,” Alexandra agrees.

 

“Tacos are tiny,” Rory says.

 

“I’m making a whole dinner here.”

 

“Wow, so I’m fat?” Lorelai asks.

 

“What?”

 

“Body shaming.”

 

“I am not body shaming.”

 

“Trigger warnings!”

 

Luke rolls his eyes in the way that his whole head seems to roll with them. “Oh, for Christ’s sake.”

 

“War on Christmas!”

 

“I am making two main courses because you told me to make two main courses!”

 

Rory turns around. “Ooh, what two main courses?”

 

“Mac and cheese and parmesan cutlets.”

 

“Ooh, Alex. Your favorite _and_ Mommy’s favorite.” She turns back to Luke. “With garlic bread?”

 

Lorelai opens the freezer. “And tater tots!”

 

“I am not making tater tots.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“We need sustenance!” Rory protests.

 

“Yeah!” Alexandra agrees. “Suste-suh-nin…” she frowns, brow furrowed. “Mommy, what does that word mean?”

 

“Food!” Rory explains.

 

“Yeah, Poppa we need food!”

 

“Yeah, Poppa!” Lorelai echoes, holding out the bag of tater tots.

 

“You’re eating tacos!”

 

“Tater tots go great with tacos!” Lorelai argues.

 

“Tater tots are great _in_ tacos,” Rory continues.

 

“Yes!” Lorelai agrees, and Luke shakes his head.

 

“No! I mean it!”

 

“They’re organic,” Lorelai protests.

 

“Alright, negotiation’s over.” Luke takes the tater tots and puts them back in the freezer. “Put the tater tots back, finish your tacos, wash your hands, dinner’s almost ready.” He turns around. “Ah!” he shouts at Rory. “And I saw you grab those mini donuts. Put ‘em down right now, and do not give one to Alex. I cannot believe the conversations I have in this room.”

 

“I thought cooking was supposed to be relaxing,” Lorelai sighs.

 

\--

 

When Lorelai’s dream wakes her up, she’s pretty sure she hears movement downstairs, so she heads down to find Rory in the kitchen, mixing a packet of hot chocolate into a mug.

 

“What are you doing up?” Rory asks.

 

“Bad dream. You?”

 

Rory shrugs. “Jet lag. Other things.” She rubs her stomach absentmindedly.

 

“Baby?” Lorelai asks.

 

“This one is active at night,” she explains. “Plus, I have a lot on my mind.”

 

“Yeah?” Lorelai mixes her own hot chocolate (out of solidarity for Rory’s pregnancy limit on caffeine intake) and sits at the table, motioning for Rory to join her.

 

“My _Atlantic_ piece fell through,” she sighs.

 

“Really? When?”

 

“Today. That was the call that I got.”

 

“Why?”

 

“They just bumped it for other stuff. It happens.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. I have a lot of irons in the fire. I’m still getting a lot of good responses from the _New Yorker_ piece, so…” She pauses. “Did I tell you that I attacked Gail Collins?”

 

“You did not.”

 

“I was waiting in the lobby of the Times Building, hoping to talk to the Metro editor. Suddenly, Gail Collins walks in. I had met her once, at the 92nd street Y. I just wasn’t expecting to see her, and I was jacked up on coffee and crazy pregnancy hormones, and I just lunged at her, which she interpreted as someone she didn’t know lunging at her.”

 

“So sensitive.”

 

“I felt so stupid. She was freaking out. She gave me her wallet.”

 

Lorelai laughs. “Did you keep it?”

 

“No. But, I don’t know. She was really nice about it. She realized who I was and then, uh, asked the security guards to get off of me.”

 

“Well, here’s the upside. You definitely made an impression.” She reaches across the table. “Did you blame the crazy pregnancy hormones? Always blame the crazy pregnancy hormones.”

 

Rory nods. “I did. And it’s okay. I have a lot of irons in the fire.”

 

“I heard. You should become a blacksmith.”

 

“What about you?” Rory asks, and Lorelai pulls her mug quickly away from her mouth.

 

“Mm… what about me?”

 

“Are you having the dreams again? Because _I_ am the pregnant one. _I_ should be having the weird dreams.”

 

“I’m just stressed out, and kind of feeling my mortality lately.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“The other day, a guest left a brochure in their room after they checked out. It was for _Anthem of the Seas_. So I’m flipping through, looking at swimming pools and pictures of the buffet. Everything’s planned, and they have wi-fi and _Rock of Ages_ , and you don’t have to bring money, and suddenly I found myself thinking—”

 

“No,” Rory interrupts.

 

“Maybe it would be nice to take a cruise!” Lorelai opens her mouth wide in shock at herself.

 

“No!”

 

“And then I broke a hip.”

 

“You are _not_ going on a cruise.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Is everything okay with Luke?” Rory asks, suddenly worried.

 

“Yeah. Everything’s fine. I annoy him and he builds cabinets. Or at least that’s what I think. He says we need the storage.”

 

“Do you think it’s because of Grandpa?” Rory asks, slight hesitation in her voice.

 

“My sudden need to cruise?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“No. I don’t know. Maybe.” She sighs.

 

“I miss him.”

 

Lorelai raises her mug, and Rory raises hers to meet it.

 

“To absent friends.”

 

“To absent friends.”

 

Suddenly, a small voice from Rory’s room quietly asks, “Mommy?” and Rory puts her cup down and gets up.

 

“Duty calls.”

 

\--

 

“Hey, you two, get in here.” Luke ushers Rory and Alexandra into the diner.

 

“What about me?” Lorelai asks, shuffling in behind them.

 

“Ah, you get in here, too.”

 

“Should I be nervous?” Rory asks as Luke helps Alexandra pull her coat off.

 

“As a rule? Yes,” Lorelai answers.

 

“Okay. Something I want you to see.” Luke hands out menus. “New. Menus.”

 

“Very nice,” Rory sing-songs, and Alexandra picks hers up to inspect it.

 

“Notice anything?” Luke asks, and Rory looks it over.

 

“Um… nope.”

 

“Turn it over.”

 

“That’s my _New Yorker_ piece. Wow.”

 

“Super-proud!” Lorelai chimes.

 

“For everyone to read,” Luke explains. “Now what can I get you?”

 

“Coffee, please,” Lorelai says.

 

“Oh, I have a list,” Rory says, pulling it out of her pocket. “And I need it all to go.”

 

Luke looks it over. “Coffee? Are you sure you’re supposed to be drinking that? Don’t want the baby to have two heads.”

 

“I am allowed to have a cup in the morning,” she pouts. “Besides, Alex only has _one_ head.”

 

“It would be silly if I had two heads, Poppa,” Alexandra explains.

 

Luke shrugs. “You got it.”

 

“That’s my piece,” Rory whispers to her mother as Luke walks away. “Wrapped in plastic.”

 

“Well, you knew when Luke moved in with me he’d turn weird eventually.”

 

\--

 

“Hi.” Alexandra waves at the new maid, who waves back.

 

“Alexandra!” Emily calls as she enters the foyer, and the little girl scrambles to hug her great-grandmother around the hips. “You’re so much bigger than last time I saw you!” Emily exclaims.

 

“Am I really?” she asks. “Because I’m still four, you know.” She holds up four fingers.

 

“And what a pretty dress! Did you do your hair all by yourself?”

 

“No, Mimi did it!”

 

“Well, you are the prettiest little girl in the whole wide world. And Rory!” Emily turns her attention to her granddaughter.

 

“Hi, Grandma. It’s so good to see you!” Rory hugs her and then steps back. “How are you?”

 

“Well, I am a Gilmore.” She pauses. “My, you are absolutely glowing!”

 

“Well, she is a Gilmore,” Lorelai chimes in. “And thirty-two, which helps.”

 

Emily ignores her. “I think you must be in love.”

 

“Well, you know,” Rory says. “The husband, the kid, the new baby on the way—I’m pretty fond of them all.”

 

\--

 

“So?” Logan asks, after hugs and kisses, taking the carry-on bags from his wife. “How was Stars Hollow, Lexi Lu?”

 

“Mimi threw bagels at Kirk! And then he ate dinner with us at Great-Grandma’s. And he has a pig! He’s so funny!”

 

“So you spent your time in Stars Hollow hanging out with Kirk?” he asks, amused.

 

“No! Silly Daddy. We saw Mimi and Poppa and Great-Grandma and I got to pet Paul Anka and there was lots of snow, and everyone said that I got big but I am _still_ four.”

 

“Wow,” Logan breathes. “She talks at Gilmore speed.”

 

“She learned from the best,” Rory smiles.

 

“And how are you, Ace?”

 

She shrugs. “Just tired.”

 

“Well, let’s get you to bed then.”

 

\--

 

“Was that your mom?” Logan asks as Rory comes back out of the bedroom.

 

“Yeah.” She sits, a confused look on her face.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“I think my par—my mom and Luke want to have a baby.”

 

Logan raises his eyebrows. “Really? Well, I mean, that’s usually what you do when you love someone. I mean, I’m a fan of making kids with you.”

 

Rory rolls her eyes. “They _have_ kids. They have me, and April, and Jess. And I know we’re a strange group, but we suspect that they like us.” She pauses. “Plus, they have _grandchildren_. Don’t you think it would be weird to have a kid that’s younger than your grandchildren? If Alex and this baby had an aunt or uncle that was _younger_ with them?”

 

“You’re jealous.”

 

“Why on earth would I be jealous?”

 

“Because you are used to being your mom’s only child.”

 

“I just said that they have me _and_ April _and_ Jess.”

 

“Yeah, but they belong to Luke. Not really to your mom.”

 

“Logan, I’m grown. I have kids of my own. Why would I be jealous of my mom having a baby? I just think that it would be weird.”

 

“Okay, Ace.”

 

\--

 

Rory is jet-lagged from just two days, which makes her feel weak, plus pregnancy keeps her exhausted. So when she sits down for lunch with Naomi Shropshire, she feels almost like she’s in a haze.

 

“Oh, sod it. Bring the bottle, we’re celebrating,” Naomi tells the waiter, who has just dropped off a cocktail.

 

“Oh, I can’t drink, remember?” Rory points to her stomach, and Naomi smiles.

 

“Well, more for me, then.” She takes a sip. “I love coming here because they hate that I do.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Oh, they wouldn’t let women in the door until the mid eighties. And then it was only supposed to be well-behaved wives with tiny feet, not hellions like myself.” She kicks a booted foot up. “I helped kick open those doors.” She lifts her glass to Rory, who lifts her water in return. “To us.”

 

“Hellions in arms,” Rory smiles.

 

“I must tell you, I’ve had such amazing feedback for the Talk of the Town piece. Far more than for anything I’ve ever written.”

 

“Oh, I doubt that,” Rory says, but inside, she beams.

 

“So, the book.”

 

“Yes—”

 

“I go back and forth, back and forth, you know. I never really wanted to write about myself. My fields are feminism, environmentalism. Who am I?” She takes a deep breath. “But, if I found _someone_ really like-minded, who I could write it with, somebody like yourself… well, that’s intriguing.”

 

“You know, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

 

“I know. I don’t care about that. I only care that it’s honest. I want to be seen as I am, warts and all.”

 

“I’m great with warts.”

 

“Even if I waver, if I let my vanity in the door, you must remain steadfast.” Suddenly, she stops the waiter, gesturing at the plate he’s carrying. “Francis, what is that?”

 

“Um, this is the fluke Carpaccio, with lime and chilies.”

 

“Is it? And who’s the genius that ordered this magnificent dish?”

 

“Uh, Dr. Reynolds over there.”

 

“Hmmm. Would it be possible for this particular plate to go missing, and for you to rush back and get another one for the darling doctor over there?” Naomi asks as she pulls the plate out of the waiter’s hand.

 

“Of course, Naomi.”

 

Naomi laughs as she takes a bite. “Oh, it’s delicious.”

 

Rory picks up her fork, hoping that, at this point in her pregnancy, she’ll be able to eat the fish and keep it down.

 

“Everything tastes so much better when it’s stolen,” Naomi says, and Rory laughs.

 

“Mm, that is good.” Rory is pleased with the cooperation of her pregnancy taste buds this time around, a constant struggle when she was pregnant with Alexandra.

 

“Mmm, so let’s talk time frame. I mean, you are having a baby.”

 

Rory nods. “Yes, in about five months. I think it’ll be about eight weeks to work up a proposal for the publishers, and supply a sample chapter. How much access can you give me? Interviews are everything.”

 

“Oh, full access, darling. Follow me everywhere, except the loo.” She chuckles. “Actually, the loo’s fine, too.” She stops the waiter with her hand. “Francis, who’s that burger for?”

 

“Um, Ms. Kipney,” the poor young man stutters.

 

“Trust me, she won’t enjoy it. Half of it’s going to her dog,” Naomi says, once again pulling the plate from his hand.

 

Rory laughs, mostly in disbelief.

 

“So, um,” Rory begins, “the only thing left to discuss is financial stuff, and the lawyers can take care of that, right?”

 

“Well, it’s fifty-fifty,” Naomi says. “Split down the middle. We’re in this together, yes?”

 

Rory can’t believe this. It’s not that she and Logan need the money, not at all, but it feels so good. It feels like things are coming together. A great husband, a happy preschooler, a new baby, and a book—who says women can’t have it all?

 

“Yes!”

 

“Right.” Naomi puts half of the hamburger on Rory’s plate, and tells her, “now, keep your eyes peeled for dessert.”

 

\--

 

“I can’t believe it’s two o’clock. Two o’clock in the afternoon. I feel like I’ve been awake for _days_ ,” Rory says, padding around the house, grateful to be back in pajamas that don’t squeeze her growing stomach. “It’s the jet lag. And the baby. And just watching Naomi drink. I mean, she drinks as fast as she talks. And she doesn’t even get tipsy. If anything, she seems to get smarter and more coherent. Or maybe she just seems smarter and more coherent, since my allowed coffee intake is so limited.” She finally settles onto the couch. “This is great, right? I mean, now I have something concrete to talk about at my Condé Nast meeting, and she already mentioned publishing excerpts of it in _Vanity Fair_ , which would be amazing.” She thinks of all of the political pieces she’s written, and shrugs. “It’s not really what I do, but it’s good enough for now.”

 

Better than sitting at home, bored out of her mind, waiting for Alexandra to get done with preschool and Logan to get home from work, like that’s all she has going on in her life, at least.

 

“So, now I just have to hang out with her more so I can get a handle on the first few chapters so we can bid it out and see who wants it,” she continues. “All that starts in a month, when she gets back from India. It’s cutting it a little close with the baby and all, but we’ll work around it. Basically, I just had a really good day,” she grins. “How was your day?”

 

“Well, I had my dry cleaning delivered,” Logan answers, walking out of the bedroom as he buttons his shirt.

 

“Oh, I think I win.”

 

“I don’t know, I really like these pants.”

 

He leans over the back of the couch to kiss her, and she sits up on her knees to meet him.

 

“I’m glad it went well,” he smiles.

 

“It did.”

 

“Tonight, I’ll take you out to celebrate.”

 

He punctuates his statements with more kisses, and she smiles at the feelings he still gives her after almost thirteen years together.

 

“I’d like that.”

 

“And tomorrow, I’ll tell you all the things I’ve heard about Naomi Shropshire.” He winks.

 

“I don’t care if she’s difficult.”

 

“Oh, she’s difficult, and a little weird,” he says as he disappears back into the bedroom.

 

“Well, I like weird. I was formed by weird,” she says as he emerges with his tie and jacket.

 

“If it comes together, it could be great, and you deserve that.”

 

She stands, taking his tie from his and fastening it around his neck.

 

“I do. I do deserve that.” She straightens the knot a little. “Did I tell you that she lost her shoes at the club?”

 

“You did not.”

 

“I didn’t even notice until we were leaving. She was walking as if she had shoes on. I mention it, and she says ‘oh, I just left them somewhere.’ How do you leave them somewhere? It’s snowing outside.”

 

“See? Weird.”

 

“Oh, weird makes good copy.”

 

“So does a great writer.”

 

“Wow, those pants did put you in a great mood. What else can I get from you today?”

 

He leans down to kiss her again, and she keeps her hand around his tie.

 

“Do you really have to go back to work?”

 

“I can’t let the pants be the accomplishment of my day. Plus, I have some competition now.” He brings his hands to the top of her arms, rubbing them softly. “You’re going to be an author.”

 

She laughs. “It’s not like I’m John McPhee or anything.”

 

“Yet.” He pulls away, sliding his jacket on. “Call the sitter, and I’ll tell the driver to be here at eight.”

 

“Wait, do you think that I can still fit in—”

 

She stops, and he smiles.

 

“Your lucky outfit?”

 

“Do not mock.”

 

“I’m not. It’s a great outfit.” He looks her up and down, the glint in his eyes giving away that he likes what he sees. “I don’t know. Can’t hurt to try it on.”

 

He kisses her, lingering just for a second.

 

“Okay, I have to go now. I’ll see you at eight. I love you.”

 

She smiles. “I love you.”

 

\--

 

Rory finds herself in Stars Hollow again, this time alone, on the way to New York, mommy guilt clawing at her insides. She’s surprised to see Paris at Luke’s, but it’s fortunate.

 

“You eating?” Paris asks, and Rory shakes her head.

 

“Just coffee to-go. So jet lagged.”

 

“You know, you shouldn’t—” Paris begins.

 

“Yes, yes, I know. Limited caffeine intake. Not my first rodeo, Geller.”

 

Paris puts up her hands. “Fine, fine. Just looking out for you.”

 

“I appreciate it. I was on the way to your place, actually. I can stay at your place, right?”

 

“Absolutely. You have the key.”

 

“Actually, I have an errand to run first. Wanna come with?”

 

“Sure.”

 

And so she and Paris accept Kirk’s ride through town.

 

“Frankly, it was over the minute he wanted to do something creative,” Paris laments, and Rory feels her stomach drop.

 

“Wow, you and Doyle spilt.”

 

She’s watched Paris and Doyle go through so much, and always come out of it. She thinks of her own husband, of her own children, and her heart hurts for the situation only the way a mother’s can (she has learned this, being a mother, that there are a lot of feelings that seem reserved only for moms, or at least that kicked in for her at the same time as motherhood).

 

“Well, he’s a screenwriter now,” Paris explains. “Have you been to the movies lately?”

 

“I know.” Rory has been to the movies, has seen Doyle’s name in the credits, has felt pride for her friend.

 

“Suddenly he’s in jeans, and wearing faded two hundred dollar rock t-shirts with bands on them he’s never seen. He’s flying off to ‘the coast,’ as if this is not a coast. He drinks vodka because it has less carbs. And then he started selling things, and so I realized, oh. This is going to stick.”

 

“I’m so sorry.” It’s all she can find in herself to say.

 

“It’s fine. I’ll kill him in court.”

 

“Sure.” Rory can’t imagine ever trying to hurt Logan that way, no matter what happens, but Paris is Paris.

 

“I’ll be using that Def Leppard t-shirt to clean my windows.”

 

“Don’t you want to maybe try to work it out nicely?” Rory suggests. “I mean, you guys have kids. And you were a really good team at one point there.”

 

“That was before Brett Ratner gave him the keys to his pool house.”

 

“Okay, ladies, you have arrived,” Kirk announces as they pull into Lane’s driveway.

 

“Thanks, Kirk.”

 

“You are welcome. Come again. And does Lane have an extension cord?”

 

“I’ll see,” Rory promises.

 

“Look, I know you guys were friends, but if push comes to shove, and we had to make t-shirts…”

 

“Team Paris, all the way.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

\--

 

She calls her mom to convince her to check on _her_ mom, and then her phone buzzes-- Condé Nast meeting, pushed back again. The image of Alexandra clinging to her legs and asking her if she really had to leave comes back, and the guilt that goes with it, and she’s so angry that she left her child for no reason. And sad. She’s so sad, and she wants to call London and hear Alexandra’s voice, but she can’t because the time difference means she’ll already be in bed.

 

So she sneaks away to Lane’s guest room and calls Logan and tries her hardest not to cry over the phone and tries to blame it all on the crazy pregnancy hormones.

 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the (admittedly idyllic and boring) version of the revival in my head before the actual thing aired, Rory had a secure job and Luke and Lorelai were married (just because I always imagined those two things would happen). But since those two things were major plotlines in the actual revival, I’m leaving them in. Also—the earliest the next chapter can come is probably Monday, just a heads up.


	3. Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring: flying around the world, Chilton, babysitting, job hunting, a move, and a birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate all of the kind comments!

Lunch with Logan is a saving grace after drinks with Naomi Shropshire (well, drinks for Naomi—a lot of them—and water for Rory).

 

“A whale and a rabbit?”

 

He smiles, and she nudges his shin with her foot underneath the table.

 

“It’s not funny.”

 

“It’s pretty funny.”

 

“And she kept coming back to it, comparing the archetypes to characters in some play by Aeschylus. Oh, and you haven’t lived until you’ve heard a tipsy Brit try to pronounce Aeschylus.”

 

“Hey, Aeschylus is hard even when you’re not tipsy. We should get Lexi Lu to say it, in her adorable little hybrid accent,” he suggests.

 

“It’s like her lips were falling off. And try convincing her that Willy Loman is not one of the characters in Aeschylus. That was a hoot.”

 

“Oh, well, I’m learning so much here.”

 

“She had five martinis. Five. And she got there before I did, so I don’t know how many she had before.”

 

“I’ve read things about this woman. It all kind of aligns.”

 

“I did, too,” Rory says, frustrated. “About her decades of breaking barriers and empowering women.”

 

“Her drunken, naked tirade through the glassware section at Harrods.”

 

“Halfway through her third martini, she asked if she could lick my ‘juicy apple cheeks’.”

 

“Ooh, do I want to know what that means?”

 

Rory presses her hands to her forehead. “My brain is fried.”

 

“Okay, so let’s talk about something else.”

 

“Oh, Condé Nast,” she says, holding up her phone. “Just got the message. Pushed again.”

 

Logan sits back in his chair, frowning. “You’re kidding.”

 

“At least I wasn’t in the States already this time.” She shrugs. “I know I’m not their highest priority, but Condé Nast asked for this meeting. Months ago. This came from them.”

 

Suddenly, Mitchum Hutzberger appears seemingly out of nowhere, pulling a chair up to their table. “Condé Nast? Procrastinators supreme. May I?”

 

“Help yourself,” Logan answers.

 

“I didn’t know you were in town,” Rory says, looking to Logan and silently asking if she should know he’s in town. Logan shakes his head.

 

“Ah, it’s only for the day,” Mitchum explains. “I was sure I wouldn’t have time to see you guys, or Alexandra, unfortunately. How is she?”

 

“She’s good,” Rory answers. “She’s at school right now.”

 

She rests her hand on her growing stomach, and Mitchum smiles.

 

“And the baby? How’s the baby? And you?”

 

“Oh, good. We’re good.”

 

“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

 

“Another girl,” Logan answers.

 

“Ah, very nice. So, what about Condé Nast? Are they dicking you around?”

 

“No. Just, um… lots of postponements,” Rory answers.

 

“You want me to make a call?” Mitchum asks.

 

“To Condé Nast?”

 

“I can set a meeting, make it stick. It’s no problem.”

 

“No, that’s okay. Thank you, Mitchum.”

 

He nods. “So I hear you’re working on something lately?”

 

“She’s working on a book proposal,” Logan supplies. “Co-writing with Naomi Shropshire.”

 

“Naomi Shropshire?” Mitchum laughs. “Have some hangover medicine ready.”

 

Rory rubs her stomach. “Well, I have that avoided. But yes, she’s a character. That’s what makes her unique.”

 

Mitchum looks over at the people he came in with. “Ah, I gotta go.” He stands. “Oh, the party next week for your uncle. You two are coming, right?”

 

“We’ll be there,” Logan affirms.

 

“Good.” He turns to Rory. “The Condé Nast offers still stands.”

 

“You’re very nice, thank you.”

 

“I believe that’s the first time anyone’s said that to me.” He touches her shoulder. “Anything for my daughter-in-law.” He waves. “Give Alexandra my love. See ya.”

 

\--

 

“Naomi, wait! You’re saying so many things at once. Slow down.”

 

Logan puts down his iPad, watching Rory pace around the living room, phone to her ear.

 

“I’m British, Rory. We speak fast. Catch up,” Naomi says, and Rory rolls her eyes.

 

“Winston Churchill didn’t speak fast,” Rory argues.

 

“Why are you talking about the fat poof when my whole life is falling apart?”

 

“You used to like my historical references,” Rory says into the phone, then covers the microphone with her hand and turns to Logan. “She called Winston Churchill a fat poof.”

 

“What did he do other than save the Western world?” Logan shrugs.

 

“Who are you talking to?” Naomi demands.

 

“No one. Just my husband.”

 

“Oh, right, because you have a _husband_ and you’re _happy._ Were you listening before? George is not returning my calls. He’s not following my tweets.”

 

“I thought your boyfriend was Colin.”

 

“Oh, for the love of god. That was weeks ago. You Americans really don’t listen.”

 

“No, I listen—”

 

“I am on a ledge here.”

 

“Uh, wait, are you literally on a ledge?” Rory asks, suddenly concerned. She turns to Logan, eyes wide.

 

“What?” he asks.

 

“You see, I don’t think you have the humor to do this book. You don’t get nuance,” Naomi snaps.

 

“No, I get nuance.”

 

“And you flat out dismissed my whale and mouse story.”

 

“No, I didn’t. And it was a rabbit, not a mouse,” Rory corrects.

 

“No. It was a mouse.”

 

“It was a rabbit.”

 

“A mouse!”

 

“It was a rabbit!”

 

“It’s the gentile version of _Fiddler on the Roof_ ,” Logan quips, and Rory suddenly realizes that it sounds like she’s arguing with her four-year-old.

 

“Okay, you’re right,” she concedes. “It was a mouse. And you’re the mouse.”

 

She crosses the room to Logan, sitting in his lap.

 

“No! No, darling, no. I’m the whale. Why in God’s name would I be a mouse?”

 

“I must be mistaken.”

 

“I can’t possibly sit with you today.”

 

“Okay, can we talk tomorrow?”

 

Naomi sighs. “You say that as if there is a tomorrow.”

 

Rory hangs up with another eye roll.

 

“Okay, the suspense is killing me,” Logan says. “Is she the mouse or the whale?”

 

“It doesn’t matter. Next time she’ll be a mongoose, or a pangolin, or a piece of fruit, and it will be my fault for not remembering.”

 

Logan laughs, running his hand over her round stomach. “You didn’t blame the pregnancy brain. I thought you said always blame the pregnancy brain.”

 

She shrugs. “I think that really only works with people who have experienced the pregnancy brain.” She nods toward his iPad. “What did you think?”

 

“ _SandeeSays_?” he asks, pulling up the website that’s been after Rory for months. “Layout’s pretty good, design catches your eye.”

 

“And attacks it with pretty, pretty colors,” Rory adds, Logan’s fingers rubbing circles into her lower back.

 

“It’s an interesting mix of sweet and sour. Gets a little catty and gossipy, not that I don’t like gossip.”

 

“How many steps down is it from the _New Yorker_ , or _GQ_ , or _Huffington_ , or _Bazooka Comics_?”

 

“A few below the first three.”

 

Rory sighs in response, and he bumps her cheek with his forehead.

 

“But, I love that they want you. Could be a signal they’re looking to class the joint up a bit.” He kisses her forehead. “I gotta get going.”

 

“Mmm, but you’re my pillow,” she protests, pulling him close.

 

“Sorry,” he says, sliding out from under her, and she reaches a hand out to him.

 

“Wait! The baby is kicking! Come back.”

 

He leans over her, letting her pull his hand to where he can feel tiny flutters under her skin.

 

“You are cruel.”

 

“Hey, this isn’t my fault.”

 

“Okay, okay. I really do have to go.” He kisses her, and then her belly. “Bye bye, little girl.”

 

“Ugh, and I have to wait _three_ more hours before I can even go get that cute kid of ours from school,” Rory complains

 

“And she’ll probably need a nap,” Logan says.

 

“A nap? Doesn’t she take those at school?”

 

“According to her teacher, her new nap spot is next to the bookshelf, and _someone_ is reading instead of sleeping.” He laughs, and then winks. “Just like her mother.”

 

\--

 

“It’s my Chilton alumni thing,” Rory says. “Yes, I have to go.”

 

“You know I don’t like you flying back and forth. You’re almost six months pregnant.”

 

“Hey,” she says soothingly, kissing him on the forehead. “I’ll be fine. _We’ll_ be fine. Stop being such a worrywart.”

 

“You and baby Caroline,” he breathes.

 

“How did we come up with a name so quickly?” Rory asks. “Alexandra wasn’t Alexandra until the day she was born.”

 

“That’s because she _looked_ like an Alexandra.”

 

Rory freezes, and Logan recognizes the look on her face.

 

“Ace.”

 

“What if she doesn’t look like a Caroline? We need a list of back-up names.”

 

“We don’t even have a middle name yet.”

 

“Alexandra’s middle name was easy.”

 

“Yeah, because her middle name was always going to be Lorelai. There obviously had to be a fourth one of you.”

 

\--

 

It feels odd, Rory thinks, to be at Chilton again, but at the same time, it feels like home. It feels even more like home when Paris comes walking toward her.

 

“Say, I believe I recognize you from my school days,” Rory greets.

 

“And I you. Good to see you, old chum.” They hug, and Paris stands back to look up at the building. “Ah, Chilton. ‘I cannot remember the books I’ve read any more than the meals I have eaten; even so, they have made me.’”

 

They roam the halls, looking around at a seemingly endless supply of teenagers in blue blazers and plaid skirts.

 

“My god, were we ever this young?” Rory asks, prodding her stomach in a futile attempt to stop the tiny kicking feet inside.

 

“Never,” Paris says.

 

\--

 

“Guys. Guys, I will take the kids to get something to eat,” Rory offers, tired of listening to Paris and Doyle bicker.

 

“Really?”

 

“You’ll go upstairs?” Doyle asks.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And bring them down?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And take them out and bring them back?” Paris continues, pointing up the stairs.

 

“Or leave them in an alley,” Rory shrugs. “One of those two things.”

 

She takes the kids to help out Paris and Doyle but also because she misses Alexandra—and because it might be helpful to practice wrangling two children, even if neither of them is a newborn and it’s only for the afternoon.

 

She takes them to the park, buys them hot dogs from a cart, thinks, _wow, this is pretty easy_ , and calls Logan.

 

“Hey there,” he says groggily, and she kicks herself for not checking the time.

 

“Oh, shoot. Did I wake you up? I woke you up. It’s two am there.” She yawns. “Which explains why I’m so tired.”

 

“No, no, no, it’s fine. I’m up,” he insists. “Everything okay?”

 

“Yeah. How’s Al?”

 

“She’s good. Asleep.”

 

“Of course.” She sighs. “I, um… I just—”

 

“What, babe?”

 

“I really hate to do this.”

 

“Come on.”

 

“Um… would your father still be willing to put in a good word for me at Condé Nast?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“I mean, it’s okay if he won’t. I mean, I don’t know how serious he was.”

 

“No, he’ll do it for sure. Didn’t you hear him? ‘Anything for my daughter-in-law’?” Logan chuckles, and Rory laughs back.

 

“I really didn’t want to do it this way.”

 

“Don’t be embarrassed.”

 

“I’m not. Pride’s a little hurt.”

 

“Well then get over it,” he ribs. “Okay? Be happy.”

 

“I am happy.” She looks over at Paris’ daughter, and quickly picks up a napkin. “Oops, hold on.”

 

“What?”

 

“Oh, uh, I just thought the baby was gonna throw up.”

 

“You have the baby while you were gone without telling me?”

 

She laughs. “It’s Paris’ kid. I’m babysitting. Caroline is still safe and cooking.”

 

“And you’re feeling good?”

 

“Yes, we’re all good here. Oh, I almost forgot. Headmaster Charleston offered me a job.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, he said if I got my Master’s, I could have a faculty position in any department I want.”

 

“And what did you say?”

 

“That I’m flattered, but I don’t see myself teaching. And I live in London.”

 

“Well, I guess they still very much love you there. Understandable.”

 

She smiles. “I should let you get back to bed.”

 

“You sure? You know I’ll stay up and talk to you.”

 

“I know, but you should get some sleep. I’ll be home soon.”

 

“Okay. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too. Give Al lots of kisses for me.”

 

“I will.”

 

\--

 

She gets off the phone with Namoi Shropshire’s attorney, and then with Jim from _GQ_ , and then with her mother, and then her stomach sinks and she’s hastily dialing Logan’s number.

 

“I’m awful,” she says before he can even greet her. “I am an awful wife and an awful mother, and I—”

 

“Whoa, Rory,” he interrupts. “You are not. Tell me what’s going on, but first know that you are an _amazing_ wife and a _wonderful_ mother and we love you very, very much.” He pauses. “What happened?”

 

“Naomi Shropshire doesn’t want me to write the book.”

 

“Really?”

 

“No. And I was mad, so I called the guy from _GQ_ and said I would write this story they pitched about lines, and now my mom and I are going to the city for the weekend, and—”

 

“Babe, you weren’t coming back until the weekend anyway.”

 

“But now I’m going to be here for a couple of more days, and then what if I start writing for Condé Nast? Then I’ll have to fly back and forth all the time, and either leave the kids or take one with me, and I’ll be away from you and leaving you with the kids, or you might be without one of them and missing them, and… and I’m terrible. Just terrible.”

 

“Let’s move to Stars Hollow,” Logan says.

 

“What?”

 

“I mean, what if you get the Condé Nast job? This way, you wouldn’t have to fly back and forth, and Lex and I wouldn’t have to miss you. And Lorelai and Luke and Emily can really get to know Alex, and they can be there when the baby is born instead of Lorelai just flying out for a few weeks, and we’ll have plenty of help with the new baby and juggling two kids.”

 

“But… what about your job? And Alex’s school? The school year isn’t over yet.”

 

“I can work in the Hartford office,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’ll commute. And Alex can go to Stars Hollow elementary. Pulling her out of the _preschool_ year a little early will be fine, and it’s not like she needs to be in a swanky preschool anyhow. I think we can hold off on the whole college prep thing for now.”

 

“I… you’ve thought about this.”

 

“I have. Does it sound good, Ace?”

 

Tears prick her eyes. “It sounds perfect, Logan.”

 

\--

 

“Mommy!” Alexandra runs at her as soon as she sees her, and Rory drops the suitcase she’s rolling to lean down and wrap her daughter in a tight hug.

 

“I missed you so much, Al.”

 

“Carry me, Mama!”

 

Rory sighs. “I can’t, baby. My belly is too big. There’s not enough room.”

 

“Oh.” Alex frowns.

 

“How was the line story, Ace?” Logan asks, greeting her with a kiss and picking up the abandoned suitcase.

 

“I… not great.”

 

“I’m sorry, babe.”

 

“And there’s something else.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I’m flying back in a week.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“I have a meeting at _SandeeSays_.”

 

“Oh. Well that’s good! They want you.”

 

“Yeah. My mom said that I should, and I thought… why not, if we’re moving, right?”

 

“You’re right.” He kisses her again. “Did you like the house I sent you?”

 

“I told you it was perfect. I thought you already gave them a down payment?”

 

“I did. I just wanted to make sure you still loved it.”

 

“Well, I do.”

 

“We got a lot of packing done already. We’re excited.”

 

“I can’t wait to help,” she smiles.

 

“Oh, no.” He gestured at her stomach. “You can supervise.”

 

\--

 

She certainly couldn’t fit into her lucky outfit anymore, but Rory finds something that makes her feel good to wear to _SandeeSays_ , and she feels even better because Logan and Alex are in the States with her, scouting out the new house and Logan’s new office.

 

“This is the nerve center,” Sandee introduces.

 

“Very cool. Simple,” Rory compliments.

 

“Oh, we don’t decorate much. We’re growing so fast, there’s no reason to. We’ll outgrow this place in a month.”

 

Rory rubs her stomach. “I know the feeling.”

 

Sandee laughs. “I don’t waste money. My CFO appreciates that. Say hello to her. This is Patrice.”

 

“Hi, Patrice.”

 

“Rory Gilmore, the one I was telling you about.” Sandee continues walking. “We have no individual offices, not even me. We work best in a hive, buzzing around each other, making word honey.”

 

“Interesting.”

 

“When you come in in the morning, you grab the nearest spot at the communal table. No hierarchy.”

 

“And together we storm the barricades.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“So, uh, I didn’t know I’d be getting a tour from Sandee herself. I thought my first stop would be HR.”

 

“Oh, HR still means homeroom to half the peeps here. We don’t even have it. Come, sit.”

 

The rest of the meeting is a disaster, because Rory came in thinking that she had the job, and so when Sandee asks for pitches, Rory finds herself freezing and flailing. So she leaves with no job, feeling like a failure for moving her whole family across the world for nothing.

 

And that’s what she declares, flopping onto her mother’s couch next to Logan.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you bought a new house and moved you and your job and Alex and I have no reason to show for it. None at all.”

 

“Hey, hey.” He pulls her into his lap, letting her bury her face in his neck. He can feel the wet heat of tears against his skin, and he rubs her back. “I wanted to move here, too.”

 

“Come on. Did you really?”

 

“Yes, Ace. Remember? It was my idea. We’ll have the baby here, let Lexi spend time with her grandparents. It wasn’t just about your job. It was about our family. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” she whispers.

 

\--

 

One month later, their first official order of business as residents of Stars Hollow is Alexandra’s fifth birthday party—the kind planned by Lorelai (and at her house, as the Huntzberger house was not yet unpacked and finished), with kid snacks and games and pink and purple streamers and balloons.

 

Rory’s phone alarm buzzes at 5:40 am, and she climbs out of bed.

 

“Where are you going?” Logan asks.

 

“It’s just something I have to do.”

 

She slides into bed beside Alexandra, letting the sleeping girl roll over to cuddle against her side. Alexandra has yet to be awake for this, but Rory will always remember leaning over a crib and rubbing her daughter’s arm, or kneeling beside a toddler bed.

 

“Happy birthday, baby girl,” she whispers. “I can’t believe you’re five years old. That’s so big! You’re going to go to kindergarten this year. Wow.” She pauses, making sure Alexandra is still fast asleep. “At exactly this time, five years ago, I was laying in a hospital bed, my tummy even bigger than it is right now, and I was squeezing your daddy’s hand so hard he thought I was going to break it. And then, all of a sudden, there you were, pink and screaming and perfect. And your daddy and I cried, because we couldn’t believe that you belonged to us. But you did, and you still do, forever and ever.” She kisses the girl’s blonde hair. “This is your last birthday as our one and only. But you will always be the little girl that made us a mommy and a daddy.” Rory looks up at Logan, who is standing in the doorway, watching with a smile on his lips and tears shining in his eyes. “We love you so very much. More than you can ever know.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, already halfway done! Hopefully the next chapters will be up this week. I hope you’re continuing to enjoy this—please let me know what you think!


	4. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new baby, a new job, and a new idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all. This chapter is thirty pages long. Idk, this story needed more Logan and more original scenes and mostly just more Logan.

**\--**

“Lexi Lu,” Logan says softly, shaking the little girl awake.

 

“Daddy, I’m sleeping,” she protests.

 

“Poppa is going to take you to Aunt Lane and Uncle Zach’s,” he tells her, picking her up. She buries her face into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck.

 

“Why?” she asks, her voice muffled in Logan’s shirt.

 

“Because Mommy and Daddy have to go to the hospital so Mommy can have your new baby sister,” he explains, pulling her pink backpack, already packed for the occasion by her always-prepared mother, onto his shoulder.

 

“Mmm,” is all she says, and Logan can’t help but smile and kiss her head.

 

He takes her out to the living room, where Rory and Lorelai are sitting on the couch and Luke is awkwardly pacing by the door, hands in his pockets.

 

“Come kiss Mommy,” Rory says, reaching her arms out.

 

“I don’t even know if she’s awake,” Logan says, peeling her off of his shoulder.

 

She looks up at him with half-closed blue eyes and he puts her down on the couch next to Rory.

 

“Give your Mommy a kiss,” he tells her. “Next time you see her, you’ll have a new baby sister.”

 

“I’ll see you later, Al,” Rory says, and Alexandra stands up on the couch to hug her mother around the neck and kiss her on the cheek. Rory kisses her daughter’s forehead, smoothing her hair out of her face. “I love you so much.”

 

“I love you, Mommy,” she says, but then Rory squeezes her eyes shut and inhales sharply, leaning her head against the back of the couch.

 

“Okay, Lexi Lu,” Logan says quickly, scooping her off of the couch and back onto his hip. “Time to go with Poppa.” He squeezes her tightly, rocking back and forth. “Daddy loves you,” he says, handing her and her backpack off to Luke. “Thank you so much, Luke. And make sure you tell Lane and Zach thank you like a thousand times for us.”

 

\--

 

“Now that we’ve done this before, I feel so much more relaxed this time around,” Logan says once they’ve settled into the hospital room. He’s pacing around the foot of Rory’s bed, clenching and unclenching his fists.

 

Rory rolls her head from side to side, stretching out her neck. “You don’t look relaxed.”

 

As if to prove her wrong, he sits in the chair next to her. “See? Relaxed.”

 

“Although, yes, you are much more relaxed than you were when Alex was born.” She smiles fondly at the memory. “I always thought that dads-to-be running around like chickens with their heads cut off was an exaggeration in movies, but… it’s not.”

 

“Hey,” he protests. “If I recall, you were awfully nervous, too.”

 

She narrows her eyes at him. “I was about to give _birth_.”

 

“You’re right, you’re right,” he concedes, taking her hand in his and pressing it to his lips. “Can you believe we’re about to have another baby? Another little person?”

 

She doesn’t answer, as another contraction begins. She squeezes his hand, breathing rapidly, and he coaches her through it, calm and practiced.

 

“See?” he smiles. “Much more relaxed.”

 

She smiles back at him.

 

“I am worried about this kid in particular, though,” he muses, and she raises an eyebrow.

 

“Really? Why?”

 

“Well, Lexi is just like you—quiet and serious and well-behaved. I’m worried that Caroline is going to be like me, and we’re going to spend the next twenty years bailing her out of jail.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Lorelai says, walking into the room with coffee for her and Logan. “I think I remember an instance once where I had to bail _Rory_ out of jail.”

 

“Wow, Ace,” Logan chuckles. “We’re screwed.”

 

\--

 

“I’ve got it,” Logan says, looking out of the window at the sunrise, Caroline, pink and soft and wrapped in a blanket, asleep in his arms.

 

“Got what?” Rory asks sleepily.

 

“What I’ll call her.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Like how I call Alex Lexi Lu?” He shifts the baby in his arms. “Lionheart.”

 

“Lionheart?” Rory asks.

 

“You’ll laugh at the reason,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed so that Rory can stare at the newborn with him.

 

“Too tired to laugh,” she whispers. “Promise.”

 

“Caro- _lion_ ,” he says, and Rory smiles. “And I was thinking about your grandfather, and Richard the Lionheart, and how everyone called your grandfather a lion, and how I think she’s going to be a wild child like me. And it just came to me.”

 

\--

 

Caroline is five hours old when Lane brings Alexandra to meet her little sister.

 

Lane comes in first to meet and coo over her new goddaughter, and then Lorelai and Luke walk Alexandra in, helping her to climb up onto the hospital bed with Rory with several warnings to be extra, extra gentle.

 

“I missed you, Mommy,” Alexandra says, craning her neck to look inside the blanket Rory is holding. “Is that the baby?”

 

“Yes,” Rory answers. “Her name is Caroline. Caroline Emily.”

 

“Like Great-Grandma?” Alex asks, and when Logan nods, she says, slowly and carefully, “Car-o-line. Baby Caroline.” She looks up, and suddenly notices Lorelai at the foot of the bed, camera phone snapping away. “Mimi, are you taking pictures of us?”

 

“Yes,” Lorelai says, voice thick.

 

Alexandra shrugs, accepting. “Can I hold Baby Caroline?”

 

“Absolutely,” Logan answers, picking her up off of the bed and depositing her into the chair next to it. He lays a pillow in her lap and shows her how to hold her arms, taking the baby from Rory and laying her gently in Alex’s arms, kneeling next to her with his hand under the baby’s head.

 

“You’re doing so good, big sister,” Rory smiles, before looking to her mom. “Please tell me you’re taking literally a thousand pictures.”

 

“Of course.”

 

\--

 

Rory thinks back to the hazy days after Alexandra’s birth, in San Francisco, even after Lorelai left, and is pretty sure that she was never this tired.

 

Of course, when Alexandra was born, she wasn’t also responsible for a five-year-old, out of school for the summer, walking around the house complaining about how bored she was, how she missed her London friends and her London house with the nice doorman, and how the new baby didn’t do anything but everybody loved her.

 

She has never been more grateful: for Luke and Lorelai, who take Alex to the diner or the Dragonfly to get her out of Rory’s hair; for Lane and Zach, who take Alex to the pool with Steve and Kwan (who are too old to want to play with Alex, but are pretty good sports about it anyway); for Miss Patty, who insists that Alex take ballet lessons even if she is Rory’s kid; and for Logan, for being Logan and a great dad, even after long days at work.

 

On top of how much work a newborn is, and how much work a newborn and a five-year-old are, Caroline refuses to let Rory put her down. Alexandra had been perfectly content in her car seat or bouncy seat, but if someone isn’t holding Caroline, she’s crying.

 

Stay-at-home motherhood suddenly seems never ending, and Rory laughs at the fact that she thought she would be able to work for Condé Nast or _SandeeSays_ with two kids, with a baby.

 

\--

 

“Mommy! Daddy!”

 

Alexandra bursts into their bedroom, crying in earnest, and her intrusion starts Caroline, snug in her bassinet, wailing loudly.

 

“Jesus _Christ_ , Alexandra!” Logan says loudly over both of their cries. They had finally gotten Caroline asleep, and he was just dozing off before the interruption.

 

Alex cowers back, her lower lip quivering.

 

“ _Logan!_ ” Rory scolds, picking up Caroline from the bassinet.

 

Alex looks at Rory. “I had a bad dream.” Then, she turns to Logan. “I’m sorry, Daddy. Are you mad at me for making the baby cry?”

 

Logan sighs, holding his arms open.

 

“No. Daddy’s sorry. I didn’t mean to yell, I’m just sleepy. Come here.”

 

Timidly, Alex crawls into bed next to Logan, who hugs her and kisses the top of her head.

 

“Was it a scary dream?” Rory asks, Caroline’s cries turning into whimpers.

 

“Yes,” Alex sniffs, and Logan arranges her so that she’s lying on his chest, his arm securely around her.

 

“It’s okay, Lexi Lu. You don’t have to be scared. Daddy’s got you.”

 

\--

 

Two weeks after Caroline’s birth, April comes to visit, making the Gilmore-Danes kitchen table very crowded in the best kind of way.

 

“It made sense. I was always leaning toward a chem major. I just love chem labs,” April explains.

 

“Me, too,” Rory agrees.

 

“Beakers, clamps.”

 

“Test tubes, Bunsen burners,” Logan supplies.

 

“But,” April continues, “I love philosophy, too. Metaphysics? Can’t get enough.”

 

“I once got in trouble for cheating on a metaphysics exam,” Lorelai says. “I looked into the soul of the boy sitting next to me.”

 

“You took metaphysics?” April asks.

 

“No, that was Woody Allen.”

 

“Woody Allen took metaphysics?”

 

“It’s from _Annie Hall_ , the movie,” Rory explains.

 

“I only watch German silent films.”

 

“Oh, boy, I remember that phase,” Lorelai says, smiling up at Luke.

 

“When did you punch a hole in your nose?” he asks, moving closer to April.

 

“Everyone has holes in their nose, Poppa,” Alex explains matter-of-factly.

 

“Uh, read the Constitution,” April argues. “I’m twenty-two. I get to adorn my body as I see fit.”

 

Luke puts his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. You’re twenty-two. Punch all the holes you want.”

 

April turns to Alexandra, showing her the nose ring.

 

“Aunt April has an extra hole in her nose, with shiny jewelry in it.”

 

“Ooh!” Alex claps her hands in appreciation. “Can I have one of those, Daddy?”

 

“When you’re twenty-two,” Logan answers.

 

“Are you gonna join us?” Lorelai asks Luke.

 

“When I can.”

 

“Oh, I took some great linguistics courses, too. I mean, it’s MIT. Noam Chomsky walked the halls. I met him. Chatted with him, laughed with him. He’s my idol.” April grins widely.

 

“Well,” Lorelai jokes, “to Noam is to love him.” April only gives her a blank stare, and she taps the top of the wine bottle in front of her. “Uh, is this thing on?”

 

“So,” Rory asks, “what are you doing this summer before graduate school?”

 

“Oh, well, first, I’m gonna do some traveling with friends. We’re hitting a few states to canvass for pot legalization.”

 

“For what?” Luke asks.

 

“It’s about civil liberties,” April explains. “It just happens to be about pot.”

 

“You just made it sound way less fun,” Logan laughs, and Rory nudges him with her elbow.

 

“Do you smoke pot?” Luke asks.

 

“No,” April answers simply.

 

Lorelai turns to Logan and Rory, pantomiming inhaling a joint, and they nod and smile.

 

\--

 

Rory is in her old room—which is technically completely April’s now that she and Logan have a whole house in Stars Hollow—trying to wrangle the pack-and-play so that she and Logan can hopefully put Caroline and Alex down to sleep upstairs long enough to watch a movie with the adults, when April comes in.

 

“Can I talk to you?” she asks, and Rory sits on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, patting the spot beside her.

 

“Of course.”

 

“So, I totally smoke pot,” she admits.

 

“I figured.”

 

“ _Don’t_ tell Dad.”

 

“I don’t think he would mind,” Rory shrugs. “Just don’t operate a forklift after.”

 

“Right. A forklift. You have an excellent sense of humor.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“I don’t have a great sense of humor. I know that. I’m working on it. I bought a joke book.”

 

“That’s good.”

 

“It’s hard to have a sense of humor in college these days.”

 

She breathes heavily for a moment, and Rory turns toward her, concerned.

 

“April?”

 

“I never met Noam Chomsky. I made it up.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“And I’ve only smoked pot once. I ate so much cheese after.”

 

“That’s okay.”

 

“I’m still kind of searching.”

 

“Nothing wrong with searching.”

 

“I think I’m having an anxiety attack.”

 

Rory reaches out a hand out, rubbing her back.

 

“Can I get you something? Water?”

 

“It’s just that you have your life so together.”

 

“Me?”

 

“With your husband, and your two kids, and your cute new house, and you’ve had such cool jobs…” April trails off. “I don’t want to be the screw-up in the family.”

 

“Hey, hey,” Rory soothes. “You won’t be. Trust me, my life is _not_ together. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Logan and the girls are _wonderful_. But I haven’t had a real writing job in years.”

 

“Oh. Somehow knowing that is even worse.” She puts her hands to her face. “How am I supposed to succeed if even you can’t?”

 

“O-kay.”

 

“My nose ring hurts,” April says, plaintively, and Rory takes a deep breath.

 

“Okay, I am going to go give this,” she gestures toward the pack-and-play, “to Logan, and he will put the kids to sleep, and we will talk.”

\--

 

Caroline Huntzberger attends her first Stars Hollow town meeting at three weeks old. Alexandra is at home with her new high school age babysitter, who is becoming one of her favorite people because they have “silly dance parties” in the living room. And Logan has found that town meetings are better than he ever imagined, and he has half a mind to never leave Stars Hollow so that he can watch Taylor Doose preside over them for the rest of his life.

 

“Oh, my god,” Lorelai gasps as they walk in. “Feel that.”

 

“Feel what?” Luke asks.

 

“It’s not sweltering.”

 

“Isn’t it great? They finally got air conditioning,” Gypsy explains as they walk past her. “We don’t have to sweat like pigs anymore.”

 

“Except Kirk’s pig,” Lorelai says as Petal comes through, oinking.

 

“Oh, hey, kiddo,” Gypsy says to Rory. “Congrats on the new baby. Can I see her?”

 

Logan smiles and angles his arms so that Gypsy can get a good look at Caroline. Suddenly, the rest of the town is asking the same, and Logan is walking around the room showing her off with a proud smile on his face.

 

“Wow, she’s just a perfect little doll,” Babette says loudly.

 

“She is,” Logan agrees, taking a seat, and Rory leans her head on his shoulder.

 

“Welcome to Stars Hollow, Mr. Huntzberger. The locals seem to have accepted you.”

 

“Surely you knew I had ulterior motives in being the one to hold the Lionheart.”

 

“All right, everyone, settle in please,” Taylor begins. “Hope you’re all enjoying the nice, cool air in here. And I hope you’ll enjoy the very big announcement I get to make tonight.”

 

“Ah, yes!” Logan says to Rory, grinning in anticipation.

 

“Ladies and gentleman, Stars Hollow is going to—”

 

All of sudden, Taylor is cut off by a loud, mechanical noise. Logan quickly tries to shield Caroline’s ears with his free hand.

 

“Shh, shh,” he soothes.

 

“The hell is that?” Lorelai asks.

 

Luke leans over to her. “What?”

 

“The hell is that?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re saying.”

 

“It’s the air conditioner!” Babette yells into his ear, and he jumps.

 

“That, I heard.”

 

“It feels like an earthquake!” Rory says, fishing through the diaper bag in her lap for a pacifier.

 

“Strawberry shortcake?” Lorelai asks her.

 

“What?”

 

“You said something about strawberry shortcake.”

 

“Taylor, shut it off!” Luke shouts.

 

“Now I’m hungry for strawberry shortcake,” Lorelai complains.

 

“I can’t! It turns on and off by itself,” Taylor explains.

 

“We’re about to have a very upset baby on our hands,” Logan says, trying to get Caroline to take the pacifier.

 

It stops as suddenly as it started, and everyone sighs in relief.

 

“It might need some adjustment,” Luke suggests.

 

“Back to my announcement,” Taylor says. “But first, a little backstory. Our summer tourist numbers are down. Even at the pool, revenues are off, which I attribute to the recent criminal activity involving the floaty hut.”

 

“The floaty hut?” Luke asks. “What happened to my floaty hut?”

 

“I thought you didn’t want people to know you donated the floaty hut,” Lorelai whispers.

 

“I don’t,” Luke explains, “but it’s my floaty hut.”

 

“Our Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer event is coming up, and that’ll help, but we thought that a supersize event would generate fresh enthusiasm for tourists to visit.”

 

“Ace,” Logan says. “I am so excited right now.”

 

“Therefore,” Taylor continues, waving his arms, “I am pleased to announce… _Stars Hollow: The Musical._ ”

 

Logan turns to Rory, grinning. “Oh. My. God.”

 

“ _This_ is really why you wanted to move to Stars Hollow, isn’t it?” she asks.

 

“This will be an enchanting musical history of Stars Hollow,” Taylor explains. “Book and lyrics by, uh, yours truly.”

 

“Of course,” Logan whispers.

 

“Music by a very talented young composer. He once lived in Brooklyn.”

 

“Wow,” Logan breathes. “That is _incredible_.”

 

“Would you stop?” Rory complains, elbowing him.

 

“Nat Compton.” Taylor points him out. “That’s Nat sitting at the end of the first row there. He’ll be directing as well. Let’s give him a nice hand.”

 

Logan, unable to clap because of Caroline, wolf-whistles.

 

“Whoa, give him a crystal sword, he’s a White Walker,” Rory observes.

 

“Now, our biggest hurdle will be finding our leading lady,” Taylor laments. “She’s got to be a great singer, a terrific actress, a nimble dancer, a dexterous whittler.”

 

“She has to whittle?” Andrew asks.

 

“Or fake it.”

 

“How do you fake whittling?” Sophie calls out.

 

“Yeah, they’d see that there’s no shavings coming off the wood.” Bootsy shakes his head. “Come on, Taylor, production values matter.”

 

“Now, what I need you from tonight are volunteers for the musical’s advisory committee. You’ll come to a couple of the shows, and give us any ideas that will help make it all that it can be. Who’s in?”

 

“Logan, this is your chance!” Rory says, and he frowns.

 

“I don’t have the time, Ace. Not with work and two kids. Trust me, I’m despondent.”

 

The air conditioner cranks on again, and the town groans, Logan rolling his eyes and trying to cover the baby’s ears once more.

 

“I’ll do it in your place,” Lorelai says loudly. “I think it sounds fun.”

 

“What?” Rory asks.

 

“The advisory committee. I’m gonna volunteer for it.”

 

“You think _you_ got the time?” Luke asks.

 

“8:30,” Lorelai shrugs.

 

“I think he asked you if you have the time,” Rory says.

 

“I gave it to him!”

 

“For the committee!”

 

“Oh, yeah. I’ll make time.”

 

“I’m gonna sign up too!” Babette yells, and Luke plugs his ears.

 

“Babette, please, warn us!”

 

“I think it sounds fun!” Lorelai says.

 

“It sounds really fun!” Logan agrees, leaning over Rory to speak to his mother-in-law.

 

“I just hope the show is as successful as Taylor needs it to be,” Babette says, and Luke turns his head to her.

 

“Once again, warn us.”

 

“It’s really got to pack them in!”

 

“If Taylor really wanted to pack them in,” Lorelai begins, “he should just get up on that stage and dance around,” the air conditioner stops, but Lorelai continues, “in his floppy Taylor underpants.”

 

The town looks around awkwardly, and Lorelai shifts in her seat.

 

“It was so out of context.”

 

“So, who’s up for being on the advisory committee?” A few raise their hands, and Taylor takes a count. “Lorelai, Tom, and Sophie.”

 

Babette raises her hand. “I’m there, Taylor.”

 

“I can make it work,” Gypsy volunteers.

 

“Me, too,” Donald says.

 

Taylor grins. “Well, I am loving the community spirit here. Neither of our newest residents, though?” he asks, looking at Logan and Rory.

 

“Sorry, Taylor,” Logan smiles. “I definitely would if we didn’t have the new baby.”

 

“Well—”

 

“I’m volunteering in his place,” Lorelai explains.

 

“Um, schedules to be announced.” He sighs. “Now, our, uh, last issue, people. This unfortunately is… less pleasant.”

 

“So we’re finally back to the floaty hut?” Luke asks.

 

“Who gives a crap about the floaty hut?” Bootsy complains.

 

“I don’t. I’m just curious.”

 

“If you’re so curious, why don’t you marry it?”

 

The crowd chuckles, and Logan shakes his head in defeat.

 

“After eighty-nine years of continual operation,” Taylor announces, “the _Stars Hollow Gazette_ is shutting down.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Rory asks, wide-eyed.

 

“I’m gonna miss the coupons,” Gypsy laments.

 

“I’m gonna miss the poem on the front,” Bootsy chimes in.

 

“Yeah, the seasonal poem,” Sophie agrees.

 

“Why is it shutting down, Taylor? Money?” Rory asks, frantically looking to Logan.

 

“No, no, it was still operating in the black. But the paper’s editor, Bernie Roundbottom—”

 

Lorelai chuckles, and Logan smirks, mouthing _seriously_?

 

“Bernie retired as editor, and there’s no one qualified to take his place.”

 

“Oh, well, it had a good run,” Donald shrugs.

 

Sophie nods. “Eighty-nine years, not bad.”

 

“Really?” Rory asks, turning around in her seat. “Am I the only one who’s in shock over this news?”

 

“Well, I had discussed the possibility of the _Gazette_ shutting down at an earlier meeting, before you were an official resident.”

 

“You mean an official resident _again_ ,” Rory corrects.

 

“So unless there’s any additional business anyone would like to bring up…”

 

“What about the floaty hut?” Luke asks, emphasizing each syllable.

 

“Really, get a room,” Bootsy says.

 

“What about it?” Taylor asks. “The floaty hut is broken and down for the season.”

 

“Well, did they find the bums who broke it?”

 

“I wonder what Luke and the floaty hut’s kids are going to look like,” Bootsy muses.

 

“Will you shut up.”

 

Rory stands up, facing the crowd.

 

“Excuse me… Um, excuse me, everybody… I gotta say, just shutting down the _Stars Hollow Gazette_ like this, with all its tradition and all its history, without even putting up the tiniest fight, it just seems…” The air conditioner groans back on, and Rory waits, shifting from foot to foot until it cuts off again. “…wrong.”

 

“They’re still closing,” Taylor says matter-of-factly. “Have a good night, people!”

 

Rory sits, frowning, and Logan pats her back supportively. “You tried, Ace.”

 

\--

 

“The _Stars Hollow Gazette_ can’t close!” Rory paces back and forth in front of the couch. “I’ve read that paper my whole life! The _Gazette_ is where I got my love of words!”

 

“I’m so sorry, Ace,” Logan says. “You know that if it was a money thing—”

 

“I know.” She sighs. “And it’s not like there’s anyone else in town qualified to be editor. I mean, it’s not Spotlight at the _Boston Globe_. It’s never gonna blow the lid off a cabal of buggering priests. But we only have one priest in town. And he’s a good man. That’s not the _Gazette_ ’s fault.” She stops pacing, and Logan, recognizing the look on her face, gets up and stands in front of her.

 

“Rory, you had a baby three weeks ago.”

 

“I know.”

 

“There’s a reason maternity leave is at least six weeks long.”

 

She shrugs. “Okay, so I start in three weeks.”

 

He smiles. “Knock ‘em dead, Ace.”

 

Rory puts out her first _Gazette_ five days later, because she figures that she can take Caroline to work with her and it’ll be fine.

 

\--

 

Logan puts a mug of coffee in front of Rory and she grins.

 

“I love coffee. I missed coffee.”

 

He kisses her head before sitting down, picking up the paper.

 

“So I’ve heard some grumblings around town about there not being a seasonal poem in this paper.” He smirks. “Because this is a place where you hear grumblings around town, and also people say, ‘your wife didn’t put the seasonal poem in the paper’.”

 

Rory rolls her eyes. “I am so tired of hearing about that poem.”

 

“And Doyle wrote a movie review?”

 

“Which I had to cut twenty thousand words out of.”

 

“You didn’t ask me to write anything.”

 

“Ah, yes, Logan Huntzberger, in all of your free time, would you like to write something for the _Stars Hollow Gazette_? Since you’re an official resident now?”

 

“I’m hungry,” comes a small voice from the living room, and Logan stands, moving to the pantry.

 

“I’ll think about it, since you asked so nicely.”

 

Rory picks up her phone. “I need to call my grandma,” she says, slipping into the dining room.

 

“Hello?” Emily answers.

 

“Grandma.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“It’s Rory.”

 

“Oh! Rory. Hello.”

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Uh, I guess. I… I just need some coffee,” Emily says groggily. “Berta, have the cousins bring me coffee!”

 

“Did I… just wake you up?” Rory asks.

 

“No, I was just dozing.”

 

“Are you sick?”

 

“No, I… I’m fine. What time is it?”

 

“It’s almost noon.”

 

“Already?”

 

“Noon is when dock workers and rock stars get up,” Rory recites. “Are you doing some kind of moonlighting that I don’t know about?”

 

“Uh, no. Where are my glasses?”

 

“Listen, we’d like to come see you. When are you free?”

 

“I don’t know. What day is it?”

 

“It’s Saturday.”

 

“Well,” Emily says, thinking. “I have a DAR meeting on Thursday, but other than that, I’m free.”

 

“Okay, so maybe I’ll—”

 

“Wait a minute. Hold on. Berta, was that the door?” she calls. “I’m sorry, Rory, I have to go.”

 

“Grandma—” Rory starts, but the line disconnects. Rory frowns at the phone, walking back into the kitchen.

 

“How was she, Ace?” Logan asks, pouring a cup of juice for Alex.

 

“My grandma was asleep, and it’s almost noon.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I woke her up! I woke up Emily Gilmore at noon.”

 

“Weird.”

 

\--

 

Rory stops by, Caroline in tow, at three o’clock on Thursday, when she knows the DAR meeting ends. She had wanted Logan and Alexandra to come by, too, but with how strange it was for Emily Gilmore to be asleep at noon, Rory figured that it was not the best idea to spring the whole family on her at one time.

 

“Well, this is a surprise,” Emily greets. “Did I know you were coming? Did I forget? Have I officially become an old woman?”

 

“No, not you. Never. I just popped by to see if you were home.”

 

They walk inside, where Berta is speaking rapidly to the DAR ladies, none of whom have any idea what she’s saying.

 

“They’re gonna miss their hair appointments,” Emily smirks, “and it’s all their fault.”

 

Rory stops suddenly. “Uh, Grandma?”

 

“Yes?’

 

“There’s a TV in here.”

 

“Yes, there is. So would you like something to eat? I have Berta puffs from today and some mystery soup from last night.”

 

“No, I’m fine. Grandma, why is there a TV in here?”

 

“Well, one of Berta’s cousins heard me talking about a live opera that was coming on, and it was during dinner time, so they brought it down and set it up for me.”

 

“You _ate_ in the living room?” Rory asks incredulously.

 

“Yes.”

 

“On this?” She points to the coffee table. “It’s a Duncan Phyfe!”

 

“I didn’t eat on the coffee table. They set this up for me.”

 

She pulls out a folding TV tray table, and Rory gapes.

 

“Am I being punk’d?”

 

“You’re being dramatic.”

 

Rory puts Caroline’s car seat down on the floor, walking across the room to Emily.

 

“Grandma, have you been getting out of the house at all?”

 

“Of course I have, I’m not a shut-in,” Emily protests.

 

“I mean socializing, not just running errands. Have you been getting together with people?”

 

“I was just with the girls.”

 

Caroline starts crying, and Rory sighs.

 

“She hates the carrier. She wants to be held, or she cries.”

 

“Here, I’ll hold her,” Emily offers, and Rory unbuckles her daughter and places her in Emily’s arms, where she quiets.

 

“I don’t mean DAR meetings,” Rory continues. “Have you been doing anything fun?”

 

“Yes, I’m full of fun.” She looks down at the baby. “Aren’t I, Caroline?”

 

“You were asleep at noon the other day.”

 

“So?”

 

“Well, it’s not like you. I mean, do you go to the club anymore? You and Grandpa used to love the club.”

 

Emily shrugs. “I’m not even sure if my membership is up-to-date.”

 

“Well, renew it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You’re far too young to be sitting in front of a TV tray, watching _Matlock_.”

 

“ _Matlock_ isn’t on anymore,” Emily argues.

 

“It’s in repeats.”

 

“I’m watching PBS, not _Matlock_. I’m not ninety.”

 

“And that’s my point. Maybe you should go out at night, mingle, dance a little, have fun.”

 

Berta laughs, and Emily hands the baby back to her mother.

 

“I should go save the ladies. Berta, they have to go. They all have hair appointments.”

 

\--

 

“No cigar?” a familiar voice asks, the door to the _Gazette_ opening. “I pictured you chomping a fat cigar.”

 

“Doctor told me to cut back.” Rory grins. “Esther, Charlie, this is Jess. He’s Luke Danes’ nephew.”

 

“Hello,” Charlie greets.

 

“I remember you,” Esther says. “Punk.”

 

“Good to see you again, Esther.”

 

She rubs her finger over Caroline’s head—the baby snug against her in a grey wrap. “And Caroline, this is your Uncle Jess. Want to hold her?”

 

“Absolutely.” Rory starts to undo the wrap and he smiles. “Sorry it took so long for me to come and see her.”

 

“Hey, she’s barely a month old. Right on time.” She hands the baby over. “Alex was content to sit anywhere in a car seat, but this one has to be held or she cries. At least the wrap works. We were exhausted.”

 

Jess cradles the baby, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “She is just beautiful, Rory.”

 

“Thanks! We like her so far.”

 

“Sleep deprivation not withstanding.”

 

“Of course. When did you get in?”

 

“Just now. I’m meeting Luke; we’ve got Mom maintenance to do. You hear she and TJ accidentally joined some cult?”

 

“Yes, and that vegetables were involved.”

 

“And an eight million-year contract,” Jess continues.

 

“I heard it was six.”

 

“Well, as editor of the _Gazette_ , you have better sources than me, Mr. Roundbottom.”

 

“What?”

 

He flips the nameplate on her desk around—Bernie Roundbottom, Editor.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Can’t wait to hear how you bagged the job.”

 

“It was the usual thing. I submitted my résumé, plus samples of my work. I was thoroughly vetted; there were several lengthy interviews. Plus complex negotiations over salary, benefits, parking.”

 

“You asked Taylor.”

 

“Pretty much.” She sighs. “It’s good to see you.”

 

“You, too. And this little one.”

 

“How about some lunch?”

 

“Sure.”

 

She opens a desk drawer and pulls out a bottle of amber liquid and two glasses.

 

Jess nods in approval. “Very Lou Grant.”

 

“The perks of the baby now being on the outside. And last time I checked, grain was a food group.” She hands Jess a glass. “Bottoms up.”

 

“Roundbottoms up.”

 

“So, how are you? Luke tells me that the book press is going great.”

 

“It’s doing okay.”

 

“So you’ve got Dave Eggers shaking in his boots?”

 

Jess chuckles. “If Dave Eggers even knows we exist, I’d be happy.”

 

“And in other stuff? Personal life?”

 

“Stable. Nothing permanent. What about you, other than this cute new thing? I heard you guys officially moved to Stars Hollow?”

 

Rory nods. “For a little bit, at least. So that we have help with the baby and with having two kids.” She sighs. “This is the only job I could get. People come up to me and smell me.”

 

“I imagine you smell like very expensive perfume.”

 

She ignores him. “I smell like failure. Headmaster Charleston told me to go get my master’s so that I can come back and teach at Chilton. He could smell it. I went and interviewed at a website that I _hate._ They passed. They can smell it.”

 

“No one’s smelling anything,” Jess protests, shifting the baby in his arms. “Look, you’ve got a great husband, you have two _beautiful_ daughters…”

 

Rory sighs. “I know. But I’m _bored_. And I’m horrible for saying that, and feeling that, but I miss working. I miss having something to do, other than change diapers and fold laundry.”

 

“This is a rut. It’s temporary,” he says soothingly.

 

“Or not.”

 

“You’re a writer. Ruts are normal.”

 

“My friend Doyle’s a Hollywood writer now. He’s always telling me to write a spec script.”

 

“You’re not writing a spec script.”

 

“He gave me a copy of _The Mysteries of Laura_. Is that a show?”

 

“You need to find something to write that you’re passionate about.” He sits up straighter in his chair, moving Caroline to lie against his shoulder.

 

“Do you want me to take her?”

 

“No, I’m good.”

 

Rory sighs, pressing her hands to her forehead. “What is this foreign concept you speak of? _Passion_? Is that really a thing?”

 

“You just gotta find that thing that makes you feel, so that your readers feel it. What makes you feel?”

 

“I feel like I haven’t slept in a month.”

 

He leans forward. “You should write a book.”

 

“Ugh, thanks for the Naomi Shropshire flashbacks. Lovely.”

 

“And I know what you should write.”

 

She sighs. “What, o great all-knowing Jess?”

 

“You should write about you and your mom.”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s a cool story. It’s got a point of view, and it’s something only you can write. Now that you have daughters of your own, you can talk about how that makes you view your childhood, or how it affects the way you’re raising them. Think about it.”

 

He looks outside the window, where Luke is waiting.

 

“I gotta go.” He gently kisses the top of Caroline’s head, handing her back over to Rory. “Thanks for lunch. I’ll see you at family dinner.”

 

\--

 

Rory climbs into bed, taking one more peek into Caroline’s bassinet before turning off the lamp.

 

“What were you up to?” Logan asks, turning off his own lamp.

 

“Um… I was writing.”

 

“Yeah? That’s great! What were you writing?”

 

She shifts over into his side, laying her head on his chest.

 

“So, Jess came to see me at the _Gazette_ earlier.”

 

“It was good to see him,” Logan muses. “Now that neither of us are ridiculous adolescent males, I think we kind of like each other.”

 

“For that I am so glad.”

 

“So what were you writing?”

 

“Well, when he came to see me, I kind of… complained. About how bored I am, not really writing anything. I mean, I’m glad that I’ve kept the _Gazette_ alive, but it’s not extremely intellectually stimulating. And he… well, he gave me an idea. And it was a great one.”

 

“What is it?”

 

She picks her head up, leaning on one elbow. “A book. About me and my mom. About our life, and our relationship.”

 

“That _does_ sound like an interesting story.”

 

“Right? And it’s something that I know all about, that I have a point-of-view on. I sat down tonight and outlined the first five chapters. Just like that.” She grimaces. “Sorry for leaving you with bedtime duty.”

 

“No,” he dismisses. “I like putting them to bed. Listening to Lexi Lu read _me_ a story while I feed the Lionheart a bottle is literally the best part of my day.” He reaches out to run his fingers through her hair. “I think that’s a sign, Ace, that it was so easy.”

 

“Yeah? Me too.”

 

She lays her head back down, and he kisses her cheek.

 

\--

 

“Hey Ace, you ready?” Logan asks, walking into the _Gazette_ office.

 

“Come on, Mommy!” Alexandra chirps, letting go of Logan’s hand to run to Rory at her desk.

 

“Sorry, I last track of time. I was working.”

 

“Exciting,” Logan smiles. “Here, let me take the baby.”

 

Rory unwraps her, handing her to Logan to put her in her car seat.

 

“My mom called me, very upset, because apparently my grandma might have a _boyfriend_.”

 

“A boyfriend?” Alex asks, and Rory frowns.

 

“Apparently Great-Grandma has a friend who is going with us to the cemetery today. His name is Jack and you have to be extra nice to him,” Rory explains.

 

“And don’t ask him a million questions,” Logan warns.

 

Alex sighs. “Daddy, you already told me that I have to be super good and quiet today, and I said I would be. And I will.”

 

\--

 

“You don’t have to wrangle both of them,” Rory says, as Logan unbuckles Caroline.

 

“This is your grandfather,” he says. “You take the flowers, be with your mom and grandma. I’ll take care of the girls.”

 

“Fine. You’re amazing.”

 

He smirks. “Don’t you ever forget it.”

 

Lorelai walks over, nodding her head in Jack and Emily’s direction.

 

“So that’s the honey badger?” Rory asks.

 

“That’s him.”

 

“So how was the drive?”

 

“Cologne scented.”

 

“Hello, honey,” Emily greets, hugging Rory. She moves to Logan, who hugs her with the arm not holding the baby. “Hi, Logan. And Caroline,” she says, cradling the baby’s head in her hand. “And oh, Alexandra, you look just darling. Come, give me a hug.” Alex obeys, and Emily offers her hand. “Come walk with Great-Grandma, sweetheart. Jack is going to wait for us in the car. Shall we?”

 

They greet the man in charge of the headstones, who smiles as he unveils Richard Gilmore’s fifth stone.

 

“It was newly polished this morning,” he explains. “The coal grey is just the right shade, there’s a dash in front of the Longfellow—”

 

“There’s single quotation marks,” Emily interrupts. “Around the quote. It was supposed to be double quotation marks.”

 

“Of course it was.”

 

“It was correct on all the stones before this. Why would you change it?”

 

“I am going to look into this,” the man promises, and Emily follows him, relinquishing Alex’s hand.

 

“I’m coming with you. This is ridiculous. This is the fourth one.”

 

“Fifth,” Lorelai corrects.

 

Emily looks back at her. “Stay here.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I think the single quotes look fine,” Rory shrugs.

 

“Let her have what she wants,” Lorelai tells her.

 

Rory nods to the grave. “Grandma’s still got your back, Grandpa. Well, this gives me a chance to fix his flowers.” She and Lorelai kneel next to the headstone.

 

“Here, take these,” Lorelai says.

 

“You know what’s the only thing I don’t really like about our new house?” Rory asks her mom.

 

“What?”

 

“I don’t have a dedicated writing space.”

 

“Ah, for your super secret Manhattan project.”

 

“Could be.”

 

“Does Logan know what it is?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Lorelai chuckles. “Of course. So come on, what is it? Tell, tell.”

 

“Well, it’s a book.”

 

“You bought one?”

 

“No.”

 

“Borrowed one?”

 

“No.”

 

“Burned one?”

 

“No. I am writing a book.”

 

“Really?” Lorelai asks. “Nutty Naomi changed her mind?”

 

“Oh, no. I’m writing this solo. No crazy collaborators.”

 

“Wow!”

 

“I know, right?”

 

“So, what’s it about? I’m dying to hear.” She looks around at their surroundings. “Sorry, just an expression,” she chuckles at her own joke. “Is it a love story? A mystery? A feel-good puppy, kitten, pony, raccoon, travel across country to enter a cow in the county fair story?”

 

Rory shakes her head. “It’s non-fiction.”

 

“So is the puppy, kitten, pony, raccoon, cow county fair caper.”

 

“No animals, no capers.” She turns to look at Logan, who nods. “It’s about me. And you.”

 

Lorelai freezes. “Me and you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And do we fight crime?”

 

Rory chuckles. “It’s about our relationship. Our mother-daughter thing. The friend thing. It’s our journey, and the journey you took before I was born.”

 

“Hmmm.” Lorelai stands, and Rory follows her, Logan leading Alexandra away from them.

 

“Maybe I glossed over it too much. Just… picture this. It starts. You’re sixteen, you’re pregnant. You’re packing up to leave Grandma’s house. It’s a riches-to-rags story. It’s got everything. Family struggle, class warfare, the independent woman thing. And from there, I’m gonna tell the story chronologically, or I might jump back and forth a bit, I haven’t decided yet, but—”

 

“No.”

 

“What do you mean, _no_?”

 

“I mean, no, I don’t want you to write that.”

 

“You don’t understand. Let me pitch it again.”

 

“I get it. No.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it’s my life.”

 

“It’s our life,” Rory explains.

 

“Yeah. You write your side of it.”

 

“My side?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And who would I be talking to?”

 

Lorelai laughs. “I don’t know, Mrs. Muir. Find a ghost.”

 

“Mom. Come on. I have to do this.”

 

“You don’t have my permission.”

 

Rory looks around, folding her arms. “We should go somewhere else.”

 

“The dead don’t have ears.”

 

“But there are people behind us, including my daughter, who I don’t want to see us fight.”

 

Lorelai sighs, following Rory a little ways away.

 

“Where is this coming from? What inspired you?”

 

“I was frustrated. I was talking to Jess—”

 

“Jess?” Lorelai asks. “How the hell did he get into this?”

 

“When he was here, visiting Luke.”

 

“Oh, great. I’m looking forward to Jess’ take on me. That’s terrific.”

 

“It’s not his take on you.”

 

“Sorry, kid. Write about something else.”

 

“No.”

 

“Write about your relationships. Your marriage. You and Jess and Dean.”

 

“They’ll be in it, too. And Al and Caroline, and how my relationship with you has affected my parenting.”

 

“It’s _my_ life, Rory. I went to all this effort for many, many years, making sure people only knew what I wanted them to know. And now you’re gonna lay it all out in a book? I don’t want my mother finding out I left you in a bucket in a hardware store in chapter six.”

 

“Are you kidding me?”

 

“You’re thirty-two years old. She’ll still petition the court to have you taken away from me.”

 

“This is such an overreaction.”

 

“Oh, really?” Lorelai asks. “Do you know that your grandmother called you Susan until you were two years old?”

 

Rory shakes her head. “She did not.”

 

“In fact, write a book about that, about a woman who leaves a baby in a bucket and her own mother takes her to court. It’s a perfect Lifetime movie. Maggie Smith can play the mother.”

 

“Mom, come on.”

 

“You didn’t think this through, kid.”

 

“No, I _did_ think through. I am not a kid. This was not a whim. I sat down last night and outlined the first five chapters, just like that. That’s a sign.”

 

“What sign?”

 

“That this is it. This is what I’m supposed to do.”

 

“No.”

 

Rory sighs. “I’m sorry. I have to. Without this, it’s grad school, or groveling for jobs that I don’t want. Or being a stay-at-home mom and doing nothing.”

 

“Find another subject!”

 

“So I’m supposed to _not_ do something that could change my future because you don’t want Grandma to find out that you left me in a bucket? That’s what this boils down to?”

 

“More or less.”

 

“But you did leave me in a bucket!”

 

“Okay, do whatever you want, Rory. You’re a big girl. I can’t stop you.”

 

“No,” Rory protests. “No, that’s not how you and I work. We don’t do the passive-aggressive thing. That’s how you and _your_ mother work. You’re supposed to be on _my_ side. I _need_ this. Can’t you understand that?”

 

“I understand. I _always_ understand. For the last thirty-two years, I have been the _queen_ of understanding.”

 

“Mom, _stop_. Please, give me this.”

 

“I can’t. Not this time.”

 

Rory sighs. “Tell Grandma that I will check in on her later.” She walks away, calling “so much for the happy news!” over her shoulder.

 

“Come on, guys,” she says to Logan and Alex, and Logan snakes his free arm around her shoulders.

 

“You okay, Ace?”

 

“No.”

 

\--

 

Rory paces around the foot of the bed, and Logan puts down the book he’s reading to look at her.

 

“Come on, Ace. Talk to me. I’m here”

 

“She was unbelievable. Right out of left field, crazy Lorelai face appears. I mean, I’ve seen it before, but usually it’s when somebody cuts off her car, or at a shoe sale.” She sighs. “A book. She totally freaked out over a book.”

 

“It was weird,” Logan agrees.

 

“She knows I’m a writer. She knows everything is fodder. Write what you know. You know what I know?”

 

He smiles softly. “Lorelai?”

 

“Lorelai, yes. And me. And our life. I know that crap like the back of my hand. It could be so good, but she just wouldn’t listen.”

 

“I’m sorry, babe.”

 

“It was so awful,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. “I can’t believe we were just in the middle of a cemetery, yelling at each other. There were mourners all around us.”

 

“Well,” Logan says, rubbing her back, “their day wasn’t so fun anyway.”

 

“And you were there, and our kid could hear us.”

 

Logan shakes his head. “She was playing games on my phone. She was oblivious.”

 

“What am I gonna do?” she whispers.

 

“Hey, she’ll calm down.”

 

Rory chuckles darkly. “She looked at me the way she looks at Grandma. _That_ hurt. And, I mean… I don’t know what I was thinking.” She leans back against Logan, and he wraps his arms around her, his head on her shoulder. “Of course she wouldn’t want me to write about us. I just… I couldn’t acknowledge it because I want to do this _so_ badly.” She closes her eyes. “I’m exhausted.”

 

“Hey,” he soothes, rubbing her arms. “Let’s go to bed.”

 

\--

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe there’s only one chapter left? Please leave a comment letting me know what you think about this section!


	5. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A first day of school, the Life and Death Brigade, a reunion, a wedding, and the last four words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter. I hope you enjoy it, and that you’ve enjoyed my rewrite—please let me know what you think! Thank you so much for sticking with me. And don’t worry; I’m not done with this universe.

**\--**

 

“What do you want to wear for your first day of kindergarten?” Rory asks, opening Alex’s closet wide.

 

The little girl stares for a moment, fingers tucked thoughtfully against her chin.

 

“Um…” Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Mommy, none of these are school clothes.”

 

Rory waves her arm in front of the hanging clothes. “ _All_ of these are school clothes now, babe. You can wear whatever you want to your new school.”

 

“Whatever I want?” She stares at Rory in disbelief for a moment. “Can I wear my Rapunzel dress?”

 

“Okay,” Rory laughs. “Maybe not whatever you want.”

 

\--

 

“I’m not ready for this,” Logan says, putting the car in park. “Ace, are you ready for this?”

 

“No.”

 

“Lexi Lu, are you ready?” Logan asks.

 

“Yes!”

 

Logan sighs. “Okay. First day of kindergarten.”

 

He gets out of the car, opening Alexandra’s door for her. She tumbles out, blonde pigtails bobbing, and yanks her pink backpack from the floorboard and onto her shoulder.

 

“Backpack?” Rory asks, pulling Caroline out of her car seat and wrapping her snugly against her chest.

 

“Check,” Alex answers brightly.

 

“Lunchbox?”

 

“It’s in my backpack, Mommy, we already checked lots of times. So are my pencils and folder. We made a list.”

 

“I know, I know.”

 

Alex grabs Logan’s hand, swinging it cheerfully.

 

“Let’s go! Let’s go!”

 

He drops his head, offering a crooked smile.

 

“Okay, Lexi Lu. Let’s go to kindergarten.”

 

The hallway is filled with other parents walking their own little ones to class, and Logan and Rory wave and smile and Alex pulls them along impatiently, having memorized the way to her classroom at orientation.

 

Her teacher, a young, blonde woman, greets them at the door. She crouches down to Alex’s height, excited smile on her face.

 

“Hi, there! I’m Miss Peterson.”

 

Alex grins, holding her hand out to shake.

 

“My name is Alexandra, I’m from London, England, and I can _read_!”

 

\--

 

“I can’t believe it,” Logan groans, sinking into the couch. “We have a _kindergartne_ r. An honest-to-god, five-year-old _elementary schooler_. A _kid_ —not a toddler, not a preschooler, a _kid_. A real, actual half-grown person. When did that happen? Wasn’t she Caroline’s age two days ago? How did time go by so fast? Why does she have to grow up?” He shakes his head, gesturing toward Caroline, laying on a play mat and staring up at brightly colored toys. “One day, one day _soon_ , she’s going to be going off to kindergarten, and they’ll go to high school, and they’ll have _boyfriends_ , and then—”

 

“Okay, I need you to slow down there,” Rory says, leaving Caroline’s side to sit on the couch next to her husband.

 

Logan checks his watch, and then sighs sadly.

 

“There’s still four whole hours until we get to go pick her up.”

 

“Logan, she’s gone to school for years now.”

 

“Not _kindergarten_ ,” he insists.

 

Rory angles herself to face him, resting her hands on his thigh.

 

“It’s a new adventure,” she says, smiling. “Al gets to go off on a whole new adventure.” She nudges Logan with her elbow. “Adventures are good.”

 

“It’s an adventure without us,” he frowns, and she rests her head on his shoulder.

 

“She’ll tell us all about it this afternoon.”

 

“This is just the start,” he says sadly. “This is just the start of her going off and having adventures without us.”

 

“She’s _five_ , Logan. She’s going to need us for a long time still. It’ll be okay.”

 

Caroline, seeming to suddenly realize that she’s been left alone, starts to cry, and Logan stands, reaching down to scoop her into his arms.

 

“At least you’re still a baby, little Lionheart. Stay that way for a long, long time, won’t you?”

 

\--

 

“No, Mama!” Alex shrieks. “I don’t want to go to bed! I want to watch Rapunzel!”

 

“It’s past your bedtime!” Rory snaps back.

 

She knows that if she just gives in, if she sets up Alex with the iPad in her bed, she’ll fall asleep in twenty minutes, but this feels like a parenting battle she needs to win. Besides, Caroline is crying on Rory’s shoulder, and she’s been fussy all day, refusing to let Rory put her down and get any work done. Logan had a call with some foreign country that meant staying at the office until almost eight pm, and so Rory was left to handle bedtime by herself—and she was failing.

 

Alex sits on the floor, arms crossed stubbornly.

 

“I am _not_ putting on my pajamas until I get to watch Rapunzel!”

 

“Alexandra Lorelai Huntzberger—” Rory begins, but Caroline’s cries increase in volume, and she groans.

 

“I’m _not,_ I’m _not,_ I’m _not_ ,” insists an overtired Alex. “Make the baby stop crying!”

 

“I’m _trying_!”

 

“I’m hungry and I want to watch Rapunzel and you are _mean_ , Mommy!”

 

Logan walks in, unheard over all the commotion, to find Alex and Rory staring each other down, frustrated tears in both of their eyes, Caroline wailing and kicking on Rory’s hip.

 

“Ace?” he asks, then looks to Alex. “What are you still doing up, Alexandra?”

 

“I want to watch Rapunzel and Mommy is being mean!” she shouts. “And the baby is _so loud_!”

 

Logan sighs, looking back at Rory.

 

“Which one do you want me to take?”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“Daddy, will you let me watch Rapunzel?”

 

“No!” Rory says, and Logan shakes his head.

 

“Mommy said no. That means no.”

 

“It’s not fair!”

 

“You’re going to bed,” Logan says, calmly and evenly, without raising his voice. “ _Now_.”

 

“No!”

 

“One… two…”

 

Alex huffs, standing, and Logan puts a hand on her back, pushing her toward the hallway.

 

“Do not let me get to three.”

 

Rory doesn’t know what Logan will do at three, but Alex apparently doesn’t want to find out, because she disappears toward her room, the sound of her angry crying echoing down the hallway.

 

Logan reaches for Caroline, and Rory recoils.

 

“I can do this. I don’t need you to come in and be Super Dad and rescue me.”

 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Okay.”

 

She takes the baby to the nursery, grabs a pacifier and turns on the light-up toy on the front of the crib, sitting in the glider and rocking Caroline to soft music until she finally quiets, her eyelids growing heavy. Rory can still hear Alexandra two doors down, sniffling, her bedsprings creaking. Rory leans her head against the back of the chair, taking a deep breath and trying to calm down herself.

 

When Caroline is asleep, Rory walks back to the master bedroom, leaning against the doorframe.

 

“I’m sorry, Logan.”

 

He shakes his head. “It’s okay, Rory.”

 

“We’re all overtired. It was a long day.”

 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t home.”

 

“No, I should—I should be able to handle that.” She balls her hands into fists. “I should be able to.”

 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he says soothingly, walking over to put his hand on her arm.

 

She covers her face with a hand, leaning toward Logan.

 

“You need a break,” he says.

 

“I shouldn’t.”

 

“You need a break,” he repeats. “It’s okay.”

 

\--

 

A week or so after the bedtime fiasco, Logan says he has the day off, and so he offers to keep Caroline so that Rory doesn’t have to have her at the _Gazette_ and can actually get some writing done. Rory is grateful, not suspicious.

 

But when Rory’s computer tells her to “get ready,” and Petal the pig runs by with a sign that says “kick up a rumpus,” something familiar stirs in Rory’s chest. She manages to push it down until she leaves for the night, and more and more weird things start to happen on her walk home.

 

When she walks back into the _Gazette_ office, and Esther says, “ _In Omnia Paratus_ ,” Rory feels absolutely giddy.

 

“I’ll be damned,” she says, when three familiar silhouettes appear in the street, gorilla masks on their faces. “Are you gentleman lost?” she asks.

 

“Gentlemen?” Finn asks. “Did you hear that?”

 

“I did, and I’m offended,” Robert answers.

 

“Are we going to take that? Letting this girl,” Finn gestures at Rory, “call us gentlemen?”

 

“Take the masks off,” Rory demands.

 

“My dear lady,” Colin tells her, “you do not ask a man to drop his façade.”

 

“Not without a twenty in your hand anyhow,” Finn continues.

 

“What are you guys doing here?” Rory asks, grinning. They’d all called to offer their congratulations shortly after Caroline’s birth, but she hadn’t seen them in person since before she and Logan moved back to the States.

 

“She speaks to us as if she knows us,” Robert says.

 

Colin lifts his hands. “As if she has intimate knowledge of us.”

 

“How did your knee surgery go, Colin?” she asks.

 

He removes his hat and his mask. “Every single nurse was a man. When did that happen?” He flings the hat and mask behind him, the other two doing the same. “So, let’s have a look at her here. She seems pale.”

 

“I’m always pale.”

 

“She seems sadly dressed for the fields,” Finn observes.

 

“Or riding in boxcars,” Robert says.

 

“Or perhaps she’s passing herself off as boy,” Colin says as they circle her.

 

“Like Yentl,” Finn offers.

 

“Tell me girl,” Robert begins, “are you Yentl?”

 

“Well, it is Friday, so…”

 

“Men, I believe we’ve arrived just in time,” Colin announces.

 

“Time for what?”

 

“’Time for what?’ she asks,” Finn mocks.

 

Robert shakes his head. “Ah, the female sex. They do ask questions.”

 

“There was a meeting, my darling.” Finn explains.

 

“A meeting?” Rory asks.

 

They continue to talk, walking a circle around her.

 

“A convocation.”

 

“An assemblage.”

 

“A conclave.”

 

“A parley.”

 

“A hen party.”

 

“There was scotch.”

 

“And after discussing the minutes from the last meeting, and the minutes that we took in this meeting discussing the minutes from the last meeting…”

 

“There was a lot of scotch.”

 

“We voted.”

 

“And we decided,” rings out Logan’s voice, suddenly, and Rory sees him, leaning up against the outside of the _Gazette_ office, a smirk on his face. He walks toward her, something in each of his hands, and continues, “that we had to come and take you out.”

 

When he reaches her, she can’t help but throw her arms around him and kiss him.

 

“Thank you, thank you,” she says into his ear.

 

She lets him go, and he hands her a hat and a coat so that she can be as ridiculously dressed as the boys.

 

The rest of the night is a dream. It’s more fun that she’s had in a long time, truthfully. It’s a little reckless, it’s a lot excessive, but mostly, she gets to just be Rory, out with her friends, with no one needing her, no one crying, no one tugging on her hand.

 

Rory even likes the tango club. She is an awful dancer, but Logan holds her close and she draws in the scent of his cologne until she’s almost light-headed with happiness.

 

After she steps on his foot, multiple times, she sinks into a chair, secluded from the rest of the gang, and Logan sits across from her, beckoning for champagne.

 

“How’s your foot?” she asks.

 

“I do not think it’s broken.”

 

“Well, good.”

 

“But you’re still a terrible dancer.” He winks.

 

“Agreed.”

 

“But,” he looks her up and down, mischievous glint in his eye. “Damn, you are a beauty.”

 

“Save the sweet talk, Huntzberger.”

 

“Well, you are.”

 

“I’m not going Dutch, so…”

 

“Rats.” He laughs. “But are you having fun?”

 

She reaches across the table to take his hand.

 

“So much fun. This is… this is amazing. Thank you so much.”

 

He shrugs, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

 

“I know you needed a break.”

 

“Where _are_ the kids?” she asks curiously.

 

“Lane is staying with them while Zach and the twins have a boys’ night.”

 

“So you planned all this for me,” she smiles, taking a sip of champagne.

 

“Well, and it was my turn to walk Finn.” He taps her shin with his foot. “We haven’t gotten to spend much time together lately, just the two of us.”

 

“What time is it?” she asks, shifting in her seat.

 

“Why? Are you bored?”

 

She shakes her head, lips turning up.

 

“One thing I can honestly say, I have never been bored with you.”

 

He grins. “Yeah, we’re good like that.” He lifts her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “Being married to you is my most favorite adventure.”

 

\--

 

They barge into the bed and breakfast in what must be the middle of the night, Finn shouting the second they open the door.

 

“Gentlemen, this is a raid. Send out your women, your children, your hounds and your horses.”

 

“Finn! Shh!” Rory scolds.

 

“I will not be shushed with hounds and horses at stake.”

 

“Could this place be any more British?” Colin asks. “I bet they have Hugh Grant stuffed in a closet.”

 

“I hope they have rooms,” Rory says. “Is anyone working here?”

 

“Oh god, Princess Diana, of course!” Colin calls out from the other room.

 

“Maybe we should go someplace else,” Rory suggests, moving in closer to Logan. She puts her hands on his wrists, pulling him to her. “Where are we?”

 

“New Hampshire,” he answers.

 

“New Hampshire? How the hell did we get to New Hampshire?” she giggles.

 

“Turned right at Vermont,” Robert says shortly. “I’m starving.”

 

“I don’t think they’re open,” Rory says, and Logan puts a hand on her arm.

 

“They’re not. We bought the place out.”

 

“What?”

 

“Every room. It’s just us.”

 

“Well,” Rory says, putting her hands on his chest, “you have officially thought of everything.”

 

Finn, Colin, and Robert head off to find the kitchen, and Logan leans in to kiss his wife. He pulls a key out of his pocket, dangling it in front of her.

 

“Would you like to see our room, Mrs. Huntzberger?”

 

She smiles. “Oh, do I have plans for you tonight, Mr. Huntzberger.”

 

“Do they involve a night of uninterrupted sleep, with no crying baby or five-year-old demanding yet another glass of water?”

 

Rory smirks, rising up on her toes to kiss the underside of his jaw.

 

“Yes, but much later.”

 

Logan pulls away, offering his hand. Rory takes it, giggling, and he leads her up the stairs.

 

Once the door is closed behind them, Rory has her arms wound around Logan’s neck, her lips on his, and he dips her lower, deepening the kiss. He pushes her jacket off of her shoulders and she reaches between them, unbuttoning his vest and pulling his shirt out of his pants.

 

“How do I get this dress off?” he says into her neck, in between rough kisses that he knows will leave purple marks on her pale skin.

 

She directs his hands to the zipper on the back of her dress, and he pulls it down slowly, letting the dress fall off of her shoulders before he pushes it down her hips.

 

“Wow,” he breathes when she steps out of her dress. He pauses, looking her up and down.

 

“Logan,” she says quietly, trying to cover her stomach with her hands. “I… I just had a baby, so I’m…”

 

He steps in closer to her, pulling her hands away and running his knuckles gently from her collarbone to the top of her tights, just below her navel.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, and she blushes, biting her lip nervously. “You’re my wife, the mother of my children, and the most beautiful woman in the world,” he continues, resting his forehead against hers. He wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her against him so that she can feel his arousal. “And I want you,” he says, his voice deep and husky, sending a shiver through her.

 

\--

 

“Hey,” Logan says sleepily, sitting up in the bed.

 

Rory turns around from her perch by the window, smiling.

 

“How long have you been sitting there?” he asks.

 

“I’m just watching the sun come up.”

 

“Come back to bed,” he says, and she takes one last look out of the window before crawling back beside him, snuggling her face into his bare chest.

 

“It’s so pretty here,” she says into his skin, her breath tickling him.

 

“Well, I wanted it to be special.”

 

He rubs her arm, dipping his hand into the robe she has on so that it caresses the skin of her shoulder, pulling his thumb across her collarbone.

 

“It was. It was a perfect night.” She turns around to look at him, lips twisting in amusement. “Is it weird that I kind of… miss the kids?”

 

Logan chuckles. “No. I miss them too.” He looks relieved at her confession. “Parenthood: that weird thing where you spend the night in a beautiful bed and breakfast, making love to your wife, and… you kind of wish you could hang out with a baby and a five-year-old the next morning.”

 

Rory laughs, and they sit for a moment, Rory staring across the room out of the window, a glazed look in her eyes.

 

Logan nudges her. “Hey, Ace? Something going on in that head of yours?”

 

“I know where I’m going to write,” she says simply, and he squeezes her.

 

“Good.” He kisses her hair. “Are you hungry? There’s a diner down the road, and I checked it out. It’s not Luke’s, but they’re supposed to have a pretty great breakfast.”

 

She raises her head, kissing the underside of his jaw.

 

“Breakfast sounds good.”

 

\--

 

She wishes she had clean clothes to put on, but they look the best of the group as they head downstairs.

 

“There they are,” Finn greets. “Breakfast martinis, children?”

 

“No, thank you, Finn,” Rory sings.

 

“It can only help,” he shrugs.

 

“What happened to you?” she asks Robert, who is lying on the couch, steak held to his eye.

 

He points to Finn. “Ask him.”

 

“Did you hit Robert?”

 

“I have no idea.”

 

“He has a very good idea,” Robert argues.

 

“Actually, I do.” Finn looks closely at his knuckles. “My fist is showing signs of an altercation, but the memory of the actual assault is… gone.”

 

“I said he was from New Zealand,” Robert confesses.

 

“Only a man with no heart would say that to me.”

 

“Did I buy a tango club last night and a 1983 Dodge Colt?” Colin asks.

 

“I did not know about the Colt,” Logan tells him.

 

“Damn. My fourth Colt this month.”

 

Finn looks at Rory. “Mother is judging us.”

 

“No, she’s not,” Logan dismisses.

 

“Yes, she is,” Rory says, moving to Robert. “Let me see your eye.” She examines him for a moment, then pronounces, “it looks fine.”

 

“Good.” Robert holds out the steak. “I’ll take this medium rare.”

 

“You’ll have to cook your own steak.”

 

“Okay!” Finn announces suddenly. “Breakfast, and then Stars Hollow, so that the coolest uncles in the world can get their hands on those adorable Huntzberger girls!”

 

“Alex is going to be so excited,” Logan grins.

 

The boys head out the front door, and Rory takes Logan’s wrist, pulling him so that they’re standing up against one another.

 

“Thanks for always rescuing me,” she says softly, tilting up to kiss him.

 

He strokes her cheek, letting his hand linger in her hair.

 

“You never needed rescuing, Ace. You know that.”

 

“It doesn’t mean I don’t _want_ rescuing sometimes. Especially if it’s you doing the rescuing.”

 

\--

 

Two days later, instead of heading to the _Gazette_ , Rory drives farther out, a determination about her.

 

Her grandfather’s study still smells like him. It’s warm and inviting, and sinking into his large leather chair feels strange, but it feels right.

 

And so begins her new daily routine: she drops Alex off at school, drives to Hartford, puts Caroline in the pack-and-play or on a play mat and just _writes_ , taking breaks to feed the baby or play with her—and those breaks feel refreshing instead of inconvenient, like they did at the _Gazette_. Caroline seems to be at ease in her great-grandfather’s study as well, content to play on her own, without needing to be constantly held like she had before.

 

\--

 

“They’re getting married!” Rory exclaims, bouncing onto the bed.

 

“Who?” Logan asks.

 

“Mom and Luke!”

 

“Really? You talked to Lorelai?”

 

“Well,” she frowns, “not exactly. But she e-mailed me.”

 

Logan shakes his head sadly.

 

“She e-mailed you.”

 

“Here, read it.” She hands him the phone.

 

“So that’s what she got from doing _Wild_ ,” Logan muses, handing the phone back. “This is good. Really good.”

 

“Yeah.” Rory sighs, leaning back into the pillows. “I have to apologize.”

 

“For the book?”

 

She nods. “For everything. This is my fault. I have to fix it.”

 

 

\--

 

 

It’s late, but she can’t wait anymore. And so she checks on the girls in their beds, kisses Logan good-bye, and before she loses her nerve, she’s in her mother’s kitchen, pulling out snacks as a kind of peace offering.

 

Lorelai hugs her, and everything feels all right again.

 

“Coffee?” Lorelai asks, and Rory nods.

 

“Ice cream?”

 

“Mm-hm.”

 

Rory pulls out the ice cream, Lorelai sitting at the table.

 

“So you got my email?” she asks.

 

Rory nods. “Mm-hmm. Thank you. I texted you.”

 

“I got it. And your note. Thank you.”

 

“So, you guys are finally gonna do it,” Rory grins.

 

Lorelai chuckles. “Finally. Opening day of the Harvest Festival.”

 

“Because there’s a hot dog cart?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“And will it be free hot dogs, or will everyone have to buy their own?”

 

“I’m sorry. I’m Emily Gilmore’s daughter. Open hot dog cart all night.”

 

“So it’s a classy wedding.”

 

“It’s going to be perfect.”

 

“Yes. It is.”

 

“And it’s finally going to happen.”

 

“Yes. It is!”

 

“So…” Lorelai begins. “My e-mail was lengthy, and chock full of information. And all your text said was _got it_.”

 

Rory frowns. “It said more than that.”

 

“Hardly. I need more. Details. What’s been going on? What have you been doing?”

 

“Well…” nervously, Rory pulls a stack of paper from her bag.

 

“Term paper?”

 

Rory meets her mother’s eyes. “Look at it.” She’s titled it _The Gilmore Girls_. “It’s the first three chapters.”

 

Lorelai takes a deep breath. “It feels light. You must’ve left my mother out.”

 

“I just sat down,” Rory explains, “and it just came out. Flew out. It’s like this story has just been sitting in my brain for years, taking up space.”

 

“Like the lyrics to _My Sharona_.”

 

“Exactly.” She laughs. “It’s been there, just waiting for me to put it down on paper. Nothing I’ve written has ever been this easy.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“And I get your feelings. I really do. So, here’s the deal. I want you to read it. Just read it. After you do, if you still think it’s a bad idea, if you think it’s invasive, then I won’t finish it. I promise. I will just throw those pages away. And that’s it. No harm, no foul. Deal?”

 

Lorelai sighs. “Rory…”

 

“I promise,” she insists. “No harm, no foul.”

 

“But you won’t like me anymore.”

 

“Not true.”

 

“I’ll be your Candy Spelling.”

 

“You will not be my Candy Spelling.”

 

“Okay,” Lorelai reluctantly agrees.

 

“Thank you.” Rory lets out a breath of relief. “So… now, shall we discuss bridesmaid dresses?”

 

“Uh, yes. I’ll let you pick. _Priscilla Queen of the Desert_ or _desnudas_.”

 

“Yep. I’m gonna need some donuts for this.”

 

\--

 

“Coffee here sucks,” Christopher says by way of greeting, handing her a Starbucks cup. “I had to go three blocks to get this.”

 

“This is the biggest size they had, huh?” she asks, and he smiles at her.

 

“It’s good to see you, kiddo.”

 

“Thanks for squeezing me in.”

 

“Oh, always time for you. You didn’t bring the girls with you?” he asks, clearly disappointed.

 

She shakes her head. “Just me this time. So, new office…”

 

“Yes, the cave.”

 

“The cave?”

 

“I call it the cave ‘cause I caved. I’m working in the family biz.”

 

“Well, it looks good on you,” Rory compliments. “New suit, sitting behind that desk…”

 

“Knife to the heart, kid. Knife to the heart.”

 

Rory is struck, suddenly, at how Logan and her father are so similar, and yet so very different.

 

“So how’s Gigi?” she asks, getting up and walking across the room before she can dwell on that observation.

 

“She’s turning into a full-on Parisian. Got the baguette thing down and everything.”

 

“Send her my love, will you?”

 

“I’ll do that.”

 

“And how’s Lana? Are you two still together?”

 

“Why not?” He pauses. “How are you?”

 

“Me? I’m five-by-five.” She chuckles.

 

“What?”

 

“Oh… uh, sorry, it’s, uh… we were watching a _Buffy_ marathon, and some things stick.”

 

“You got Logan to watch _Buffy_?”

 

“I can be very persuasive.”

 

Christopher watches her pace.

 

“You okay, kiddo?”

 

“I can’t come visit my father?”

 

“Any time. It just seems a little formal, like you’re gonna serve me with papers or something.”

 

She shrugs. “Mom and Luke are getting married. Did she tell you?”

 

“I’m not really good at keeping up with e-mail, so, maybe.”

 

“Well, it’s a town thing, and I thought you should know, but I’m kind of hoping you won’t—”

 

“Show up?” he finishes for her. “I won’t. Knowing when to admit defeat is one of my better qualities. I wish her all the happiness in the world. Is she registered?”

 

“As what?”

 

“For gifts. I have a crazy expense account here. I can get her anything she wants. Does she have a unicorn?”

 

Rory wrinkles her nose. “Shoot! She got one yesterday.”

 

“I’ll think of something else. So is that what the big news is? The wedding?”

 

She shakes her head. “I’m switching gears a little, career-wise. The whole journalism thing didn’t really pan out the way I hoped.”

 

“Sorry, kid. You don’t need money, do you?” he asks, confused.

 

“No, no. Not at all.”

 

“You sure? Because I have some. I have no idea what to do with it. I bought this suit and every color of Beats by Dre. Do the girls need anything?”

 

She shakes her head again. “I’m writing a book.”

 

“A book?”

 

“I’m writing a book about me and Mom.”

 

“Really? Does Lorelai know?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Does Lorelai care?”

 

“I’ll find out.”

 

“Am I in this book?”

 

“Well, it would be a little hard to avoid,” she half-jokes.

 

“Do I enter in a cloud of sulfur?”

 

“I haven’t worked out all the logistics,” she says, half-serious.

 

He chuckles. “Okay, well, I—I think it’s great. Just…” he clears his throat. “Try not to make me too big a villain. I was stupid, but I loved her. And you.”

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

“Anything,” he says, sincerely.

 

“How did you feel about Mom raising me alone?”

 

“Ouch.” He chuckles lightly. “You kind of coldcocked me there, Mr. Bernstein.”

 

“Sorry, I just have to know. How did you feel? _What_ did you feel?”

 

“Look, your mom did what she wanted to do,” he explained. “I wasn’t really consulted.”

 

“I know, but… you let her do it,” she insists.

 

“I did. I… I let her do it.”

 

“So, now, all these years later, how do you feel about that?”

 

“It was in the cards. Lorelai and you, from the first moment I saw you two together, no one was getting between you guys. Maybe that’s why she’s getting married now. You’re grown. Her job is done. Now she can let someone else in.”

 

“So, she didn’t let you in?”

 

“I’m not saying that.”

 

“Is that why you weren’t there? _She_ made the decision, and she pushed you away?”

 

“No, not all. We were just so young. I was so young, and Lorelai was, well, much like yourself, she was a force of nature. Just uncontrollable. Sure about everything. I couldn’t come close to competing with that, so I… didn’t.”

 

“But you could’ve fought her on it,” Rory argues. “You could’ve talked her out of it.”

 

“You ever try talking your mother out of anything?”

 

“But do you think it was the right decision that she raised me alone?” she ask with more force than she intends.

 

“I think it was exactly what was supposed to happen, and I think she’d back me up on that.”

 

Rory is speechless for a moment, just staring down at her coffee cup.

 

“Yeah, I think she would, too,” she says quietly.

 

“You know I love you though, right?” he asks.

 

She nods. “I know.”

 

His laptop chimes, and he groans.

 

“You’re working, I should—”

 

“No, no,” he begins, but it chimes again. “Sorry, kiddo.”

 

“Hey, it’s okay.”

 

“Let’s meet up for dinner next week. I really want to see the girls, and hear more about this book.”

 

She nods. “Thanks for the coffee. The office is nice.”

 

\--

 

“Why did you even go there?” Logan asks as they pick up the toys scattered around the living room. She hadn’t told him she was going until she had already been. “Just for your book?”

 

Rory shrugs. “I guess.”

 

“What did you even expect him to say?”

 

“I don’t know. I just… I didn’t want it to be so easy for him to even _say_ that he was fine with not being there.”

 

Logan shakes his head. “I can’t imagine not being around for every part of the girls’ lives.”

 

“I can’t imagine doing this by myself. I couldn’t. And I wouldn’t want to. Maybe it’s different, because we’re older, and married and—”

 

“No,” Logan says firmly. “I don’t care what the situation is. I would never just not be here. Even if, like he claimed Lorelai did, even if you wanted to do it on your own, I wouldn’t let you.” He shakes his head again. “I love you, Rory, more than anything, but I would fight you tooth and nail for my kids.”

 

“I know.”

 

Logan stops picking up, walking to stand in front of Rory. He takes her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes.

 

“And don’t you ever, _ever_ think that you’re not worth fighting for. That’s his fault, not yours. You are _so_ worth fighting for.”

 

“I wasn’t thinking that.”

 

He kisses her forehead. “I know you, Ace.”

 

“You’re such an amazing dad,” she says, tears in her eyes. “Al and Caroline are so, so lucky. I’m so lucky.”

 

Logan shakes his head. “I’m the lucky one.”

 

\--

 

Alexandra is dancing around Luke and Lorelai’s living room, a swirling blur of white tulle and a headband of white roses.

 

“Mimi and Poppa are getting _married_ , and I get to wear a very pretty _dress_ ,” she sings. “Look at me twirl, Poppa!”

 

The tulle fans out around her as she spins, and she stops, arms out in a _ta-da!_ gesture, shaking with giggles.

 

“You are the prettiest girl in the whole wide world,” he assures her, and Lorelai sticks her lower lip out.

 

“Excuse me. _I_ am the bride. I’m not supposed to get upstaged by a five-year-old. _I_ am supposed to be the prettiest girl in the whole wide world.”

 

Luke holds a hand out toward Alexandra. “Look at her, though.”

 

“Ugh, you’re right.” Lorelai holds her hands up in surrender. “You are going to be the star of the show, missy.”

 

“Can I twirl at your wedding?” Alex asks.

 

“Twirl until you can’t twirl anymore, sunshine.”

 

\--

 

Rory, Caroline on her hip, runs into Dean Forrester, of all people, at Doose’s Market.

 

“Well, well, well. Of all the gin joints in all the world.” She grins, hugging him. “What are you doing in Stars Hollow?”

 

“I’m visiting my parents for the weekend,” he explains. “I heard you moved back. And wow, this is the newest little one?”

 

“Yeah, this is Caroline.”

 

“Wow, she’s beautiful. How old is she?”

 

“Six months,” she answers.

 

“And your oldest?”

 

“Five, which is crazy. She’s in kindergarten now.”

 

Suddenly, they both have phones out, showing each other pictures of growing children.

 

“So is it nice to be back?” she asks.

 

“So nice. Especially since Grady brought home the flu _and_ head lice from school.”

 

“Oh, man.”

 

“Yeah. Within twenty-four hours, all three kids had everything. It’s ugly, man. Jenny told me to get out and save myself while I could.”

 

“She’s a saint.”

 

“She’s pregnant.”

 

“Again?”

 

“It’s really boring in Scranton,” he laughs.

 

“Man, your house is gonna be loud.”

 

“I know.”

 

“That’s so great.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Congrats.”

 

“And it’s a girl,” he continues, “so my sister finally has someone to shop for.”

 

“How is Clara?” she asks, shifting Caroline on her hip.

 

“She is living in Berlin with a guy named Wolfgang.”

 

“Van Halen?”

 

“I wish. This guys from Buffalo and he climbs things for a living.”

 

“Climbs things like big piles of money?”

 

“Nope. Like bridges, municipal buildings. They stacked up tires for the monster truck rally, and he climbed them, dressed as an ignition switch.”

 

Rory shrugs. “I don’t know how to defend that.”

 

“And he calls her Ra. That’s the great nickname he came up with.”

 

She grimaces. “You hate him.”

 

“I hate him.”

 

“Well, it’s okay. She’s young. It’s her first love. It’ll probably…” she fades out awkwardly.

 

“Yeah, I know. Um…” he chuckles.

 

“Well—”

 

“How are you doing?”

 

“I’m good,” she answers, honestly. “I’m writing a book.”

 

“Well, you’ve read ‘em all, so what else are you gonna do?”

 

“Mm-hm. Uh, it’s actually about my mom and me and our life.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Can I put you in it?” she asks, almost without meaning to.

 

“Uh…” his eyebrows knit together.

 

“I mean, I’m changing the names to protect the guilty, but you would know it’s you.”

 

“I don’t know.” He frowns. “Um… what are you going to say?”

 

“That… you were the greatest boyfriend alive. That you were, um, generous, and protective, and kind, and strong. That as much as I wish we could have met when I was older and more mature, I know that if I hadn’t had you with me then, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. That you taught me what safe feels like.”

 

He shrugs. “Okay.”

 

“And that you had a disturbing obsession with _Lord of the Rings,_ that you did a terrible Smeagol impression…”

 

“It was not terrible,” he defends. “It was pretty damn good. There were hand gestures.”

 

She laughs. “I know, I remember. I remember it all really well.”

 

“Good luck with the book.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“And,” he touches Caroline’s arm, “it was nice to meet you, little one.”

 

He walks toward the door, and Rory turns back to the shelves, laughing as she picks up a yellow box.

 

“Dean! Cornstarch.”

 

He chuckles. “Pay for it this time.”

 

\--

 

Rory expects the worst when Lorelai hands back her manuscript, despite the smile on her face.

 

“You read it.”

 

“No, I didn’t.”

 

“You—”

 

“I’m not gonna read it. You go ahead and finish it. I’ll read it when it’s done.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“If I don’t like it, I’ll just sue your ass.”

 

“Wow.” Rory laughs. “It’s… it’s good publicity. Sue me either way?”

 

“You got it.”

 

“Thanks, Mom.”

 

“Yeah.” Lorelai gets up, crossing the kitchen. “Oh. Just one note. Drop the ‘the’. Just _Gilmore Girls_. It’s cleaner.”

 

“ _Gilmore Girls._ ”

 

\--

 

Logan walks in, carrying a stack of pizzas, Alexandra behind him.

 

“I hope this is enough pizza, but knowing all of you, it’s probably not.”

 

“There’s too many of us for the kitchen. We’ll have to eat in the living room,” Lorelai says, and Alex’s eyes get wide.

 

“We’re allowed to eat not at the table?”

 

“This is Mimi’s house, so we get to do whatever Mimi wants,” Lorelai explains.

 

“I wanna sit with Uncle Jess and Aunt April!” Alex exclaims, scrambling to sit next to them on the couch. “Petal!” she says, suddenly distracted by the presence of the pig. “Why is Kirk here? And why does he look so sad?”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Jess tells her. “Come, sit.”

 

Logan drops the pizzas on the table, leaning down to kiss his wife and wave at Caroline, perched on Luke’s lap, and she smiles brightly.

 

“She’s getting so big,” Luke observes. “I love her little personality that’s starting to come out.”

 

“Are you supposed to be here the night before the wedding?” Logan asks Lorelai, and Luke puts his hands up.

 

“Thank you! That’s what I’ve been saying all day.”

 

“I live here,” Lorelai repeats. “Besides,” she gestures around the room, at Rory and Logan and Caroline and Alex, at April and Jess, at Luke. “This is where the party is.”

 

And it _is_ a party, this weird combination of people that makes up a family, both chosen and not chosen.

 

\--

 

“Hey.” Lorelai walks into the living room, rousing Rory, Logan, Jess, and April, who are half asleep watching a movie, Alex and Caroline fully asleep on various laps. “Come on.”

 

“Where are we going?” Rory asks.

 

“We’re going to get married.”

 

“Now?” Jess asks.

 

“Now.”

 

“What about tomorrow?” April asks.

 

“We’ll get married then, too.” Lorelai pauses. “What about Kirk?”

 

“Let the boy sleep,” Luke tells her, and she nods.

 

\--

 

Everything is _perfect_.

 

Kirk’s crazy decorations have everyone in awe, especially Alex, who walks through the town square, eyes wide and mouth agape, pointing out every pretty thing to Rory and Logan.

 

The wedding is perfect, Jess and April standing next to Luke, Rory and Logan and the girls next to Lorelai.

 

Rory leans into Logan’s side, tears of joy in her eyes.

 

\--

 

Luke wraps an arm around Rory as he walks down the steps of the gazebo.

 

“Now you’re _officially_ my step-father,” she smiles.

 

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

 

“But,” she confides, “you’ve been a really great dad to me for a really long time.”

 

A lump forms in his throat, and unable to speak, he kisses her on the top of the head.

 

\--

 

Alex and Caroline are dancing with Luke and Lorelai in the town square, even though Rory and Logan have no idea how either of the girls are awake, considering how far it is past their bedtimes.

 

“This was perfect,” Rory says, hugging Logan.

 

He wraps his arms around her, laying his head on her shoulder.

 

“Yeah, it is.”

 

“I’m so happy for them.”

 

“Me, too.”

 

They stand there, silently, for a moment, and Rory just listens to Logan’s heartbeat, feeling whole and content.

 

He turns his head to kiss her cheek, then whispers in her ear, “Rory, I love you.”

 

\--

 

They’re still out at dawn, Rory and Lorelai sitting on the gazebo steps, Jess and April and Luke on a bench, Logan on another bench with Caroline asleep in his arms and Alex asleep with her head in his lap.

 

“Now we are both married ladies,” Lorelai observes. “We can do married lady things together.”

 

Rory laughs. “What are married lady things?

 

“Um, I don’t know. You’ve been a married lady for _years_. Um… like dyeing our hair blue, or buying pork chops… bowling? I don’t know. I’m out.”

 

Rory laughs, looking around.

 

“I want to remember all of this. Every detail.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

They sit in silence for a moment, and then Rory nudges Lorelai’s shoulder with her own.

 

“Happy?”

 

Lorelai looks over at Luke and smiles.

 

“Yes. You?”

 

Rory looks at Logan, running his hand through Alex’s hair, his cheek pressed to the top of Caroline’s head.

 

“Yes.”

  

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are very much appreciated! (and will motivate me to continue)


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